


The Last Great American Dynasty

by Folkcore



Series: Let's hit the Sunday matinée [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Bottom Louis, Break Up, Character Development, Cheating, Crying, Drugs, Eventual Fluff, Feminine Louis Tomlinson, Frat Boy Harry Styles, Friends With Benefits, Gaslighting, Harry is bat shit crazy, Harry is stupid, Hockey Player Harry, Hurt, Hurt Louis, Inspired by The 1975, Jealous Harry, Jealousy, Like really stupid, Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Harry, Post-Break Up, Smut, They’re all American, Top Harry, Toxic Relationships, Unhealthy Relationships, Verbal Abuse, Zayn is weirdly pacifistic, except Matty naturally, for a while, it's not cheating if you close your eyes, like lots of crying, louatty, zouis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:02:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25482850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Folkcore/pseuds/Folkcore
Summary: Well, in the beginning there was Chaos. Naturally along with it; destruction, all things bad and yadda yadda yadda. By some true happenstance it was just that— that there was purity, beauty and cleanliness, and it was real and so true.A story about love trysts, a lot of unhealthy romances, star-crossed love and the battle of the bands.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson
Series: Let's hit the Sunday matinée [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845964
Comments: 54
Kudos: 53





	1. I think I'm falling, I'm Fallingforyou.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *edited* 11/19/20

Well, in the beginning there was Chaos. Naturally along with it; destruction, all things bad and _yadda yadda yadda_. By some true happenstance it was just that— that there was purity, beauty and cleanliness, and it was real and so true.   
  


It was approximately one in the morning, the music pounding the speakers also rattles the floorboards. Harry would assume it's from some _'Top 80's essential'_ playlist; strobe light appropriate and just so happens to make for a killer migraine.—an _overwhelming_ combo for the atmospheric pressure of a trashy frat party. _Annnd,_ it just so happens that it doesn't get much better than that, so it seems. 

"I think I've had enough Jell-O shots." Harry slurs half attentively. There's a can of cold beer he's holding to his neck that was actually snapped open and spilling everywhere. He was a sloppy mess and a terrible drunk. 

That being, as it was humid as all hell in the Delta Kappa Epsilon house tonight it wasn’t making Harry any less irritated.

Harry’s hair had come apart; basically unglued, and he'd spent the entire night loafing on different couches and smacking on cracker peanuts. "It's so _friggin_ hot in here." He slurs and sort of glares at the bodies rolling in sweat, more so in physical romance. The only curvy body he wanted was taunting his front conscious, it was something like a nightmare he once hallucinated on half a dub _._

" _You're_ hot." The redhead giggles as she says it. It makes him raise an eyebrow, albeit disgustingly, and the sorority sister has yet to move. She's been sitting with Harry and his brothers just popping her bubblegum, ripping from their bong and twirling her long ruby jewel-toned hair. She was a damn parasite, She also hasn't let him breathe air that wasn't her Vodka infiltrated pants of hormonal persuasion, and so precisely— _aimed—_ at him too.

Harry was a man of dignity, surely not tonight, but a man of dignity no less. 

He wanted to cringe at how many times he smelt _strawberry shortcake_ without turning his head and gagged at the second-hand embarrassment. God, and the _frigging_ vodka! She should've dropped dead hours ago, or tossed her insides out on the sticky amaretto floor. 

Other than that, he hasn't paid her any attention the entire time she’s sat there, but she's starting to get pesky with her hands and that wasn't really cool. Louis could totally have his ass for that, (if he still cared that was.)

"Shut your whore mouth," Harry mumbles under his breath and belches loudly before excusing himself. "Has anyone seen-" _belch_. "-Lou?" Harry slaps red goldilocks’ hands off his thigh and is partially annoyed because he was staring at Louis for a while, Then as soon as Harry batted an eye he just _disappeared._

Always one with the wind, Harry scowls at his thinkin’. 

_  
_But Louis had danced straight into bodies of alcoholic anonymous attendees (douchebags), wearing fraternity polo shirts with their collars turned up and unbuttoned to show off puka shell necklaces— _presumably_ from trips to Hawaii they went on during spring break where they go and just get drunk and probably trash historical landmarks. You just don’t trust a dick in a puka shell necklace, _especially_ around a drink. 

They were all _probably_ , talking a blue streak about all the charity work they _definitely_ aren't forced to do. Really, _selling—_ that southern charm just _standing_ there with full forced entitlement. Harry would know those unmistakable arrogant stances from miles and miles away because, by now, he probably would've already been smoking a big old fat Cuban cigar with the La-Di-Da club there, laughing about the white trash that shows up uninvited and chuckling some more, all vain and proud like he wasn’t from the same trailer park. Like he wasn’t chauvinistic trash. 

Tonight though, he's feeling sloshed on their big brown couch eating chips and salsa, peanuts and edibles, glaring at everything. No one answers his question about Louis' whereabouts. It further angers him.

Harry puts his head in his palm and taps his fingers on the armrest. "Don't you think you should start talking up other people?" He rolls his eyes at dickhead numero uno, who's smoking across from him doing some tricks to impress the circle of stoners and lonely desperate tarts he's unaware he's gathered. Harry scoffs and cracks his knuckles. And without looking at him, says;

"Mind yer' own biscuits," Then belches some more. Harry lets his eyes roam around the house once more, _there_. In purple pink lights he spots his unrequited boyfriend. This time, near an icebox dressed in nowt. His meaty thighs jiggle as he dances to the attention and _eh_ ( _mostly)_ music, he hasn't caught the seething green eyes he's been obviously ignoring.

 _Still_ , it doesn't matter to him when he makes sultry looks to what Harry thought up until now was his best fucking friend. Harry's _brother_ for gods sake—handing him a drink. 

Louis, still slithering to the beat, smiles at him. _Toothily_ like they just made some inside joke. Harry doesn’t like that. He’s never liked that. 

Harry stares at the encounter and lets his mind run a mile a minute, his nails dig into the couch reflexively, crescents forming in the suede as he grits his teeth at how easy it is for Louis to swivel their situation and make this about him. Well this wasn’t about him. It was about Harry. It always _fucking_ was, they’ve made that clear. 

"Hey!" The bimbo cries out when he steps on her bare feet. “I just got a mani-pedi today you fucking dick!” She wails and throws her feet up on top of their coffee table covered in cocaine and rolling papers.

Harry ignores her and tries his best to swagger away, head to toe wasted, towards Louis and Zayn. They seem to be distracted by a massive game of beer-pong involving about half of Harry's ape brothers cheering and whooping. Harry sees Louis laugh into his cup now and then. He's sure he knows the only thing he's been drinking tonight is a bottle of brandy Louis urges to himself, this one kind with golden flakes, that real bougie shit. It’s either that or Bailey’s strawberry and creme Harry swipes from gas stations. 

Harry, though, holds himself back and side-eyes him, he watches Louis swivel his hips and smile so _stupidly_ pretty. His olive sun-kissed skin and little retro ensemble he’s gone and put together, was just— _wow_. Sexual Libido clear in the air and desire unmistakable-as-day on Harry’s ridiculously red puffed face, he realises Louis was— _is_ —an enigma. 

_Anyway_ , the skintight black leotard is sin. Harry almost wants to lick his lips in sexual frustration at the way it flatters Louis but doesn't want to get busted. It’s just—the way Louis looks tonight is overwhelming, he spasmodically flashes his Colgate smile and throws his hands up, sometimes letting everyone hear the jingle-jangle of neon bangles shake over his head. That’s enough to overstimulate Harry’s dire needs. 

"I like your shirt." and oh? Harry raises his eyebrows at Zayn Malik’s attempts of flirting.

Zayn’s probably never even met someone so fucking infatuating and careless as Louis Tomlinson. But, Louis' grinning at him and grabs his Care Bear crop top between his fingers, he smiles again, bashfully. It makes Harry scowl and lick at his gums. This must be a dream, or a nightmare. 

Louis' pink ballerina flats go pigeon-toed, and his slouchy gray leg warmers ride down his shins. Harry could just _laugh_ and _laugh_ because whatever he's selling is precious, _really_ it is. But anyone who knows Louis knows he’s fucking insane. What a walking contradiction, _really._

Harry loves crazy though, that's why they ended up fucking in highschool to a Jon Bon Jovi song in the back of Harry's VW microbus, they had a _steaming_ good time. By the end of that night, though, (never had Louis imagined the night would happen not even in his wildest dreams), Harry took him dancing and left him stranded. He was cold and alone, feeling of desolate under pink and blue neon lights and next to a shitty fog machine where a bunch of teens where setting up the stage for their gig. Louis never failed to make him remember that night.

Naturally, "Aw, shucks! Thank you hon, I love retro night." Harry cradles his cup to his chest and tries to listen in closer, but he's startled by a slap on his shoulder and the stench of a loopy strain of weed. 

"You think you can move my car for me? I’d really appreciate it—" Honestly, Shaggy could move his own fucking Mystery Machine, so with that, Harry turns back around and ignores the _hippy/yuppy_ trash he's sure has never been sober a day in his goddamn life. Well, neither had Harry but…still. 

Harry stalks further away from the frat pariahs/hippies—losers— and closer to the Judas’s, the fucking traitors. 

He fleetingly catches Louis' eyes before the blue gaze flicks back to the dork who's got him hugged between his dark tan body and the custard kitchen wall where they've gone and migrated to. Honestly, the sight is enough to make that typical fire ignite deep in the pool of Harry's belly, but he wants to watch how this goes, he wants to see them further betray him. At the very least, it'll feel like he was right about one thing.

Harry knows them both like the back of his hand, funnily enough. Both opposites of each other, Louis, who was born a socialite and Zayn, who's always been a square peg in a fucking hole. How did he let this happen?Just how much could they _possibly_ — _fucking—_ have in common?

"Saw you washing competition at the fair." —and Hello? How fucking lame is this dude? Had Harry never noticed? It makes him wonder just how long Zayn's been waiting for the opportunity to simp for his fucking sloppy seconds. —He was probably watching Harry grope Louis' ass and lick and suck at his neck that night. They had some good angry sex the day after. Louis was as hot as a damn pepper sprout when Harry wouldn't stop talking to some carnie and made Louis wait by the Ferris Wheel with a silver-tongue, shit faced, high schooler.

Louis eats it up though and grins at Zayn like he's watching a cute animal take its first steps, tilting his head to encourage him. _Oh, yes! Come to mommy!_ Harry rolls his eyes and scratches his pectoral. "You do a great Dolly Parton." He'll give Zayn a gold fucking medal for observation because he's right, Louis kills 9 To 5 every time, no one does Dolly like Bluebell. "Even better blueberry pie, I think I ate like three slices." And fuck him. Fuck Zayn Malik. He knew what that pie meant to them, what it fucking symbolised. 

"Aw beau, stop it! You're gonna make me blush." Louis' accent always gets heavy like this around five or six drinks or the entire bottle."You wanna get out of here?" Louis purrs, grabs him by the lapels of his plaid shirt, and flitters his eyelashes invitingly over his cheekbones. It makes Harry's heart burn something ugly. 

Harry watches the blush that's sprouting on Zayn's neck then back at Louis, who has half a smile and a smirk on his face. Harry swears he tries to keep his inhibitions tame by cradling his cup again —it can only work so many times though. 

_Harry_ was his beau; Harry _is_ his beau.

He doesn't acknowledge the squelch of his cup when he crushes it with little force but the magnitude of his entire anger. No, he feels it when he lets the liquid runs down his fist and under his arm down unto the ugly beat shag carpet.

When he's decided he's had enough, he strides towards them with a huge grin and shoves his head between both of them, who happen to break apart faster than a green light, It's all funny how they thought they could just get away with this. While at his own fucking party? _Come on, they could have a little fucking decency._

"Howdy Friends! Don't y'all look as-," _belch_. "-as pleased as punch. Having fun?" Zayn clears his throat then looks down at Harry's cup held ransom by his hand and back up to Louis' face. _Oh, God Bless his soul._

Louis tilts his head up to acknowledge Harry and gives him a half-hearted shrug. It makes Harry's smile falter but it remains. Nonetheless, the grip on his cup lies still. "Reckon, we are." He says to him, and they're simple words, really shouldn't grind Harry's gears and provoke him, but Louis looks into his eyes, determination all in his stupid face. It makes him angry like a bull.

"I was just um, going to ask Louis if he could show me around." Harry's neck almost cracks just about as fast as he moves his head.

"Yeah? Well where we headed? Lemme get my fix and we’re off like a pack o’-”

"Harry stop." Louis begs with his big blue eyes. Stepping in front of Zayn now, who stays quiet and leans back on his hands that are flat on the wall, seemingly no help.

Harry laughs awkwardly with wasted eyes and two left feet. "What?" He laughs again, but he's stumbling and falling everywhere like a hot mess. Louis and Zayn watch him, Louis' eyebrows are all bunched up and Zayn looks away, probably ashamed he’s been caught. 

Harry is quiet for a few seconds when he watches Louis stand in front of Zayn like he's fucking protecting him or something. He looks at them unimpressed and watches their body language and how easy it is for Louis to just get all up in Zayn's space, unaware with how innate they are with each other. Harry could feel the alcohol run through his blood system like crazy, he was far from sober. 

"Louis let's go." Harry's southern drawl is Tennessee Wiskey heavy and it makes Louis shake in his shoes. Harry can see an everlasting frown on his face, but he's too drunk to make anything of it; he's gone and made a fool of himself now. "Oh, _I get it_! You slept with him!" Harry says with the toothiest grin because if he doesn't find a way to keep gritting his teeth, he'll probably burst into a ball of flames. “Right?” His smile is sharp. The clench of his jaw had his teeth clamping down harder than he could feel it. 

"You're as drunk as a skunk Harr-" Louis tries to laugh but it sounds meek and weak. Harry rubs his jaw and chuckles, then he throws his cup at their feet. Yellow beer staining Louis' shoes and leg warmers, beautiful expensive fuzzy leg warmers...

"You slept with him!" Harry roars and shoves him back into Zayn, who quickly pushes Louis gently behind himself. Finally putting himself to fucking use. 

"Harry what the fuck is your problem!" Zayn knocks him back with one hand to his shoulder. But Harry only stumbles in his spot a minute before regaining his balance and frowning.

"Louis I said-" _belch_. "Fuck, Louis! I said we're leaving." Harry's eyebrows lower and he walks around them to go grab the bag of weed he’s gone and left in the living room, then he heads outside still pacing to and fro. 

Harry's lit up a cigarette and smoked about a quarter before Louis shows up outside and shuffles his feet fiddling with his fingers before genuinely standing in front of him.

"Gonna come home or gonna stay and whore around with my best friend?" He tries not to slur, but he’s already given himself away. He puffs out a bit of smoke and looks down at Louis before taking another hit and rolls his eyes.

"You are so unbelievably drunk! You don't just embarrass me like that and think you're off the hook Harry!" Louis drags his eyes across Harry's annoyed face and scowls of course he was wasted,"This is so typical of you!" Louis hisses and stays put right where he is, like if he moves Harry might grab him with the force of a thousand fucking waves. Louis' been holding in a sob all night, the way his shoulders are quivering it's not because he's sad. "What is your problem!"

"You fucked him, then?" Harry breathes out another cloud of smoke and picks at his nails holding his cigarette between his red knuckles. 

"I've never done anything with him!" Louis wails. His cheeks are blotched and his lips are quivering like the fat bodies of bees, he's beautifully pathetic...it eggs Harry on.

"Oh come on!" Harry laughs unamused then points in his face and steps forward again. " _Sneaky_! You're sneaky!" Louis finally cries and shakes his head denying him. "You don't care about us! You care about him!" He tries yanking at his hair but he hasn't been able to pull it out yet. "What does he have that I don't!? Tell me!" He grits his teeth and sobs loudly "—be-because you don't know how good you have it with me!" Harry's eyes were glazed, and he was crying, full blown water works. Louis felt helpless. He didn't know if this was another stupid trick. 

"I don't know what you want me to say, I said I didn't-." He whispers, he's lying though. Louis tries swallowing but his big fat tears, and lies, form a hiccup in his throat. Harry can tell when he's lying by his mannerisms, the way he keeps his arms crossed in a dismissing way; how he keeps his head down vís-a-vís his ballerina flats. "I don't know what you need from me." He sniffles and rubs his nose with his Zayn's jersey; Harry wants to snort, really, he does, but he's just tired and doesn't care right now. Because this is something like out of a movie, the one thing he never saw coming.

"He was like a brother to me!" Harry's sure his face glows red with sweat just the way it always does when he's drunk but now he's sad too so the tears shine on his cheekbones. He's so sad so _very, very sad_. "Fuck you!" Harry purses his lips and whimpers. “Fuck you! Y-You fucking _fuck_! This is your fault! I'll never fucking trust you again and it's your fault!"

"Don't-Don't say that!" Louis begs and wipes his nose rapidly. He cries and pleads with his big blue eyes.

"What the hell do you want me to say!" Harry sobs and grabs Louis' wrists, clutching them in front of their blotchy wet faces trembling them under his fury grip. "Everyone on this damn campus– _Fuck!_ " Harry sobs and buries his eyes into his own arms. "—and you go and fuck my best friend!" His voice quivers, then he rubs his eyes with his knuckles and breathes out, slowly tilting his head back while he paces to and fro once more, now his hands clutch at his head like if he wrings it hard enough he'll stop feeling so confused and angry. 

"We're not together anymore Harry." Louis whispers and he looks so miserable standing there holding that goddamn jersey like a lifeline. "A-and I don't know if we'll ever-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Harry seethes and clenches his fist. "Shut the— _fuck_ —up Louis." He points all up in his face accusingly. "You don't know shit."

"I know we never leave well enough alone." Louis urges and looks like he wants to walk away but before he even tip-toes away like the same game of hide-and-seek they've been playing all summer, he looks at Harry desolate and tired. "God, can’t you leave well enough alone?” Sobbing he walks away and finally leaves Harry with the worst turmoil he’ll ever feel.   
  


because Harry doesn’t know if he’ll ever leave well enough alone, especially if well enough meant Louis’ happiness without him. 


	2. Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy, what about that?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> edited 11/29/20

Louis' summer has been green eyes of envy and small candied figs—for a while at least, or up until presently—He's hoped-for happy ever afters and wistful forever and always, wishes upon stars, and even held and blew breaths through and through backed up tunnels.

With rolls and beads of sweat halting on bumps of freckles then cascading thoroughly down his pasty face, it seems to be a slow burn of evening aftermath.

There's a soft hymn of wind billowing and flapping his sheer white curtains. Then, there's a gentle breath that crawls over his bare shoulders when he turns to look at his alarm clock. He doesn't startle when he gets a face-full of jet black hair instead.

"Mmm, Lou?"

"Brekkie?" He asks. Zayn groans but agrees, Louis stiffly nods and rubs a thumb into Zayn's rib. " _Pain Perdu, oauis?_ " He purrs and tries sliding Zayn’s briefs down. A little dicking down wouldn’t hurt anybody—

"I'm really hungover, just make whatever you want." Louis sort of glowered at that, he loves cooking, baking—preparing, it gets him in a sort of state of mind that isn’t a cajoled frailty brimming on an episode. And so it really does make him upset that Zayn got drunk on some cheap boxed wine he found in one of his pantries and decided to slum it up in his bed instead of pulling out his dick and giving Louis some good old fashion dicking down last night so sue him if he’s a little fussy! 

"Eh." Louis eye twitches, leaving the room, he stomps down to the kitchen childishly and starts throwing cabinets open, scouting for beignet mix instead. "Oh," he says as the box sits lightly in his hands; when he turns it up to peek inside, it's—empty?! " _Phooey_." Louis figures and sighs miserably, tossing the package into the bin.

_As if this day couldn’t get any worse.  
  
_

_~_

Louis' barely yet started to beat eggs and is sat crisscrossed on his Calcutta kitchen floor; he’s already hearing the sloppy thumps of footsteps of his upstairs bedroom.

It makes his head heart, but he smiles and beats the yolks harder. The shower starts running, and that's the only noise that echoes through his enormous house.

This is so stupid! He doesn't even want to make breakfast. What a freaking waste of time! He could just as quickly go down to the cafe and get an iced macchiato and a glazed apple fritter or something. He leaves the bowl of eggs on the floor and rocks on his heels; huffing and puffing before he mumbles and swipes the keys from his kitchen island. Zayn could go fuck himself right with the French toast.   
  


~  
  


When he gets back, there's no sign of his boyfriend or whatever the fuck Zayn was to him—but instead a note on his huge bed with the lingering and nauseating smell of beer and cigarettes; He doesn't even read it before he tosses it into the garbage. Well maybe he has a peak.   
  


~  
  


Louis looks around his house and tip-toes and dances shamelessly. He does anything you could possibly do when you’re bored out of your mind. This time, he actively frowns—what a tedious day, All gray and grim, so sad and boring.

Louis decides to some laundry like halfway through the hour; air dry it outside where the air whips on his blooming cheeks and holds sheets to his face where he could smell the lumps of detergent. _Mm_.

He feeds his hamster too. She kind of hates him, but it's okay. He loves her enough for the both of them. She's really rude about it too; she yanks at an apple from between his fingers and stores it in the side of her left cheek. " _Cobra Kai_." He coos, and all she does is squeak, burrowing away in her paper nest.

Back to sleep she goes. 

~

There's an orange tree in his backyard, so he goes and picks one for fine dining on his pasture, watching as trucks drive by with gusts of dirt flying around the air. He does walk by said dirt track barefoot and fresh out of a shower for about fifteen minutes, but goes back inside when someone catcalls him and narrowly balances on the fine line of sexual harassment. Louis throws his orange.

Inside, Louis wishes he could call Harry, although, that's no fun when he's desperate, and Harry would likely laugh about it with one of his stupid DKE brothers or maybe even all of them. Eventually, after ironing and folding laundry, Louis gets so bored he starts taking selfies and thirst traps. He posts three consecutive pictures of his fat ass in some random pink lace panties from his wardrobe that gets a decent amount of comments and likes and finally smiles. 

**/mattytrousersnake/** if I wasn't straight, I'd go down on you every night Louis. #nohomo #DTF #milf #baby #hmupls #sexy 

  
**/mattytrousersnake/** answer ur dms I wanna see u mmmm baby 

**/harrystyles/** I’ve never seen those

**/harrystyles/** You look really lovely.

**/envyfuckingsmirnoff97/** woow...baby _chaton_ wants milky 🐈🧶🐱🥛 Call me ASAP  
  


 **/envyfuckingsmirnoff97/** you’re a fucking troglodyte leave him alone **@mattytrousersnake**

**/mattytrousersnake/** I’m just a man **🙏🏼 @envyfuckingsmirnoff97**

**/thecinephilemaverick/** did you get the note? :) 

**/DKEadmin/** #FemboyHooters

Louis rolls his eyes at the fraternity’s comment but likes it anyway. His eyebrows scrunch up as he scrolls through a bunch of other comments and sees Harry's notifications blowing up his DMs before they stop altogether. Louis doesn't want to open them and let him know he's answering messages, but he goes back into his feed and sees Harry's posted a shirtless picture with a black eye and a water bottle he's got over his crotch with no caption. Louis' heart skips a beat and likes the photo before clicking on Harry's messages.

**/louisbug/** hiiiiii

**/harrystyles/** Hey :)

**/louisbug/** you look really nice in your recent.

**/harrystyles/** thanks, you look peachy keen. ;)

**/louisbug/** hahaha

**/harrystyles/** can I see you? Like a pictureeee x

**/louisbug/** what kind of girl do u take me for? ;(

Louis giggles like a maniac and sends a thirst trap outtake anyway, and he hopes Harry likes it. He bites his lip and waits for any sign when he gets a picture back almost instantly, of course, it just so happens to be a photo of Harry's humongous cock red and malicious at the tip. Harry's hand is grabbing at the base of his dick and gripping some of the skin of his balls. Louis rolls his eyes back with his lip between his teeth; he's so gorgeous.

**/harrystyles/** Let me come over. I miss you x

**/louisbug/** idk i'm pretty busy...

**/harrystyles/** :( pretty please? xxx

**/louisbug/** okay...

**/harrystyles/** See you in 30 mins?

**/louisbug/** <33

**/harrystyles/** I reckon I’ll be off work by then 

Louis immediately sends a FaceTime call to Envy, Envy Adams is the crème de la crème for emotional support. Well…most of the time. 

"Oh Lou! I've missed you!" Louis waves and cheeses then as he realises what he’s just done, panics. 

"Help me." He murmurs hastily, pulling skanky outfits from his closet. "Harry's coming over and I think we're gonna hook up but I have no idea what-"

"Haribo's gonna play hooky from work to come see you?" Her smirk is a thousand colors of unsurprising amusement. " _What a surprise_." She’s such a sarcastic bitch. 

"—I have no idea if I should lead him on or just get it over with and fuck him one last time." Louis is still pulling garments from his drawers and opening and closing his dresser.

"One last time? Oh no dolly, I think you’re going insane." Louis looks at the screen and pouts, maybe a _little_ , he hasn’t taken his meds—it wasn’t a stretch. 

"Where are you anyway?" Louis asks still combing through the garments. Envy looks like she's on a huge private jumbo jet on her way to Cape Town, considering them it wasn’t far fetched. 

"I'm going to Cannes with my mom and she's totally forcing me to do this charity event ugh, kill me." Yuck. 

"Cannes on a Monday morning? Man do I wish I was you." He doesn’t. Cannes on a Monday morning was like Cancun on a Wednesday afternoon, you just don’t come back from that. 

"I was in Paris at the school of _Chambre Syndicale De La Couture_ actually-" Envy Lily’s and her smirk always sits so proudly on her face. “Right before I left for Cannes actually.” Louis wants to plug his ears. “Guess who we run into?” 

"Oh no." Louis groans, he knows exactly who. Get this: A 5’11 woman with no sense of boundaries and her overbearing paternal tendencies. Who could it be? Hmm...

"Your mom was asking about you." She sing-songs and Louis tries to freeze everything out of his head. "Why don't you talk to her Louis? She's like an ice woman now." He grits his teeth and barely rolls his eyes "She misses you-"

"That's enough Envy!" Louis reprimands and Envy quickly closes her mouth in shame. "I gotta go...I'll see you later." Envy looks away and pulls her eyebrows together. 

"Have fun with Haribo I'm always rooting for you." She smiles a tiny grimace and ends the call. Louis’ guilt eats at him, he hates raising his voice. 

~

Louis really should've seen it coming when Harry showed up fifteen minutes earlier than said time and let himself in with his own keys; he even dusted his shoes off at his welcome mat before stepping in.

When he walks through the house, instead of heading straight up the stairs, he stands there for a little fixing his hair and rubbing his face, clean shaven and fresh in front of the mirror of the huge foyer. 

He takes some time to look around the sunroom and living room, pictures of him and Louis adorn the chimney sill, he chuckles, there's one of his favorite pictures, a photograph of Louis where he's feeding Harry chocolate covered strawberries and frozen grapes in a meadow by their hometown. It really makes Harry's heart throb, he puts the frame down.

"I'm home!" Harry stifles a laugh. This hasn't been his home in six months, although— unlikely things happen every day, he did come to get one of his hockey sticks from the garage last week. Louis almost killed him for not telling him he was going to an away game.

Humming Harry trudges up the steps of the stairsand down the hall, there in the master bedroom, Louis was waiting for him on the carpeted floor, two bottles of wine and a platter of assorted cheese and chocolates. Harry has stars in his eyes when Louis' fully revealed himself in his frilly white lingerie and pink quilted silk slippers.

" _Et Voila_!" he smiles and glows to look down at the presentation. " _Voulez vous, mon ami_?" Harry frowns and unbuttons his own shirt to take it off.

"Don't call me that." He mumbles, and Louis' posture drops before he sits back up and grins. He hates it when Harry treats him like a child of his own worst fears.

"I thought we could play some card games!" Harry grimaces and take a seat next to him, it makes Louis frown again, the pout on his face goes unnoticed, though. "Gin Rummy?" Harry shakes his head.

"Let’s play cheat. I’m the card shark after all." He cheeses, which in turn makes Louis cringe.

"Oh, of course, cause it's your specialty?" he says passive aggressively handing him the deck, Harry grits his teeth.

"We're not doin' this right now."

"Whatever." he rolls his eyes, and Harry pours himself a cup of red, then shuffles the deck again and again.

"Hows the family?" Harry's small talk is bullshit; he knows Louis' tycoon mother and her motherly ways, his father and his passiveness. 

"Would you just deal me my fucking hand." Louis spits and glares. Harry throws a face too but slides him his play of cards.

It takes no more than two rounds before Harry's asking, "Where's your new boyfriend anyway?" He looks disinterested, but it sounds eager, Louis chuckles disbelievingly and meets his eyes; he's serious, wow.

"Is that really something you would've wanted to ask me?" He tilts his head, kitten-like. —but it's funny.

"I mean..." His eyes roll, and Harry shrugs. "It's not like I really care." Harry says; Louis giggles and unclasps his garter clips. He swears he could hear Harry gulp, that's when Harry goes on, "Does he take care of you? Does he...you know...fuck you any good?" Louis blinks at that. _Does he_? Zayn does do loads of things like eat, clean, _get high_ , _hell,_ sometimes he _cooks._ But Louis hasn't felt sexually satisfied since at least six months ago, the last time they fucked during Harry’s shift at the automobile shop. 

Louis parts his mouth to say something, but Harry's chuckle makes him seal his lips again. "Another notch on your bedpost, I see, you don't waste time, do you?"Louis eyebrows furrow, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?

"You of all people! _You!_ Are _you_ telling _me_ that I have a new notch in my bedpost just as quickly as _that_ — when all you do is have your balls fondled by every person who breathes in your direction?" Louis accuses and Harry shrugs, lapping at his lips with a sharp smirk.

"Maybe." He perks, but Louis scoffs disbelievingly.

"Well, which one is it partner?" Louis accuses and raises an eyebrow. 

"The first one— I think. Unlike you, my body count is as low as a virgin." Harry has yet to wipe the smirk off of his stupid face. Louis deadpans.

" _Hardy-Har-Har_. You're as clean as mud." Louis mocks and then wistfully sighs, Harry looks so pretty. He's started doing this thing with his eyes were he hoods them and let's his jaw go slack, it's so hot. He also started dressing like a fuckboy in his hockey jerseys and plaid flannels, he was practically begging for attention. Harry was a fucking whore in gray sweatpants. 

"So Matty commented under your Instagram post..." Harry trails off and purses his lips, it makes Louis rolls his eyes.

"Yeah he did. You should keep him on his leash." Louis giggles and bats his lashes. Harry smiles sourly. He knows how Louis feels about Matty. 

"He's one of my best friends so y'know..." Louis does know, all too well too. "You also gonna fuck him?" And that's okay, It's funny.

"Yeah Harry." He glares. "I'm totally gonna fuck Matty Healy your stupid fucking roadie idol." Louis doesn’t say what he really means though—that he’s thought about Matty Healy and his cool bedsheets, the smell of chocolate that wafts through his hair and the soft words that he makes sound like poetry. 

" _Heyyyyy_." Harry whines and pouts like a child. Louis is so enamoured it's not even funny anymore. "He's not my idol and we're not roadies. We get gigs at that one campus bar every other day!"

"Which one?" Louis snorts and takes a cheese cube into his mouth.

" _The Omen._ it's this cool fucking bar where the music snobs hang out but since we've been playing, people actually come to see us every now and then. You know the deal." Louis doesn't.

"I don't know the deal actually. Is 'the deal' getting drunk every night and doing blow off of college girl tits? —Or is it more like High school seniors Matty Healy and Harry Styles getting wasted and cheatin—" Harry shushes him and places a finger over his lips.

"I'm not doing this today, so let's just not."

"I think calling you was one of my greater mistakes. —Like Harry, Why are we even here right now?" Harry swirls his glass and downs the rest of his red wine shrugging. That's all he seems to know, fucking shrugging. 

Harry puts his wine down and throws his hands in the air, probably a little tipsy. "Maybe it's because I hate you, like _goddamn_ Louis! if you're a nut than I'm a case." His eyes look wild; they look like the Amazon, all the vines and trees, all the fucking rabid animals tearing and clawing at each other. All of it in his eyes. "But _fuck_ if I don't want you just the same." Louis' stiffens. Harry fiddles with his fingers, and Louis is lost for words who fucking says that to a booty call? Especially a booty call from your ex?

"Harry Styles, your timing is extremely flawed." Louis wants to cry. —As much as he's missed hearing that, it's like he's only doing it to get laid, Louis doesn’t deserve cruelty of this caliber. 

Harry stays silent and plays with his rings while he waits for Louis to say something, anything.Louis just sits there and processes.

"I can leave." Harry says and swallows hard. He's already drunk. "If you want me to." Louis looks at him and shakes his head fast.

"No." Louis mumbles, Harry nods and swipes his tongue in front of his bottom row of teeth, Louis realised how desperately he’s longed for this. "I want you to kiss me," Louis whispers and licks Harry's lips for something of an invitation, but their tongues dance far more like a welcoming party. Louis wants to open his eyes so badly, he wants to see Harry's face all rosy with the high of their kiss but just as red as the state of inebriation he's in.

They're so needy and anyone could tell, they always would be. You could tell by the way Harry's palm reaches to spoon the nape of Louis' neck in his palm, bring their teeth together like a horrible kiss. You could tell by the way his other hand inches to the bottom of the college sweater Louis had pulled over his set of intimates. It was getting cold, he had said, but it's almost like he was yearning for a piece of Harry this entire time. You could tell by the way Louis would flitter his eyes open now and then just to make sure he didn't imagine this. You could tell by the way they we’re tangled in bedsheets.   
  
And the three words balance on the top of Harry’s tongue all night.   
  


~

Their clothes lay haphazardly on the floor now. So it goes, they've had fun for today, Now it's his time to take leave. "Louis," he says tenderly. He doesn't want to disturb the peace of the warm room, but he needs to hand this olive branch over. Louis blows out a breath in his sleep and his face twitches. "Get up, baby I have to go to work." Louis whines and digs his face into his silk pillowcases. "Baby, hey." Harry shakes Louis from his existential nightmare and places a big cold hand to the nape of his neck. "Hey dumplin', I gotta get to work; I'll see you later." Louis shifts awake and sits up to grab at Harry's hand in the dark, squeezing it three times.

"Hey." Louis' voice is so soft in the gloaming, and he moves his hand up, catching Harry's wrist tenderly, lovingly. He can tell it'll be long from now when they are truly or, at the very least, okay. "I know you have no liability to this or even probably care..." Louis laughs insecure and unsure. Harry blinks at him and slowly shakes off his hand like he knows where this is going, and he doesn't really want to hear it, not even maybe. He finishes dressing as Louis speaks like he should be ever so ready to leave anyway.

Louis loves him so much he can feel his heart thrash, and his eyes water the way they've been doing a lot of lately. "But, I just need to know if you're seeing somebody else." His voice is pathetic with heartache, and maybe he doesn't want an answer, but he needs to know. “Are you—seeing somebody?—else, that is.” Louis is still half asleep, but when he hears the terrible sounds of mockery he flushes and crumbles into himself. 

Harry snorts, shakes his head and shrugs on his baby blue button-up tossed over a white tank top. "Phew—You're kidding, right?" Harry brushes off the lint on his work clothes and looks offended, irritated a smidge, and he probably doesn't have time for an argument so early in the morning. "I don't wanna fight right now, Louis. I'm on auto repair all day today. I'm practically running the damn shop by myself, the-then! —I probably have to come home to no fucking dinner because god forbid I step foot here while you're fucking around with my best friend! Oh-oh! But first, before any of that happens, I have to be evaluated and accused of cheating on you at—" He looks at the alarm clock like its a joke. "—five-thirty in the fucking morning! —Running on no sleep! Running on no coffee and breakfast because you can't set an alarm to save your fucking life."

"You're such an asshole!" Louis' mouth twists sourly, now wide awake and contradicting own his emotions. This was such bullshit. "Just answer the damn question, and you can go and fuck off to whatever blue-collar shit you have to do for the rest of the day." Louis' passion is hot, and Harry's fuse is short, they were a bad mix. 

"Watch your fucking mouth when you speak to me, Louis. Unlike you I have to work my ass off to pay for my tuition; some people don't have the privilege to be handed everything on silver fucking platter by their damn butler and nanny! You're always on my fucking dick, nagging bitch." Harry says and points in his face. He shoves his shoulders back, trying to get him to sit on the bed again. He speaks slowly and dangerously grim. "I've never cheated on you. You're always finding new ways to piss me off. All the shit I do for you, and you honestly think I have time to run off and play house with someone else? You're a pain in my fucking ass. You're such a hypocrite too! Nagging me about people you think that I'm letting lick my balls, then going around and _actually_ sucking dick." There's a permanent frown on his face for the rest of the day for sure. Not that's it's necessarily Louis' fault because God forbid an angel like him sets anyone off, Right? _Wrong_. 

"Can you blame me!" Louis screams right back and grabs at his feathered hair, now clenched between his knuckles. "All you ever seem to want to do is run away from me and find some ass to bury your dick in!" Louis' lip quivers when he looks outside the window, his gaze burns his eyes and so do his tears.

"Maybe if you didn't pull that virgin coy bullshit on me, I wouldn't be so fucking hard to tie down Louis!" Louis flinches and stares at him like a monster.

"I can't believe you just said that to me." Louis’ frown wobbles a million times worse. 

Harry grins like an evil movie villain. "You better fucking believe it." he is one. 

"You're blaming me for your goddamn commitment issues as if that has even the slightest bit of bullshit to do with me!" Louis gasps out a thought. "You have some nerve, is that why you're talking up other people?" Harry whips his dirty shit on the floor, all fed up and annoyed. He rubs his face exasperated and clenches his jaw with too much of an excess of anger.

"What the fuck are you talkin’ about now, Louis?" Harry's fingers twitch as he grabs cologne and sprays his neck and wrists rubbing them together, vigorously with anger.

"Your fucking phone, you piece of shit!" Louis screams and pushes him back with all his strength; he keeps shoving him until their at a weird distance from each other. "You thought I wouldn't go through your phone when it's blowing up all night, and I can't get a wink of fucking sleep?" Louis screeches and throws his shoes at him, but Harry catches them both and drops them on the floor, then Louis hurls his hairbrush, it misses Harry by a lot. 

"I didn't fuck anybody!" Harry roars back, but Louis keeps hurling everything on his vanity, only hitting Harry randomly now and again. "You just expected me to stop talking to people because we weren't together anymore- _Fuck_!" His face lashes to the side when a bottle of shitty cheap perfume accidentally hits his cheekbone and cuts it open. "Shit!" He winces and touches the fresh cut, Louis doesn’t find it in himself to feel bad. "I'm gonna rip you a new one." He growls warningly and stabs his glare into Louis. 

"You're not gonna fucking touch me, you lying piece of shit! I know you cheated on me!" Louis' sobs rake through his chest, sending his body into irregular pulses, his desperate need for air clouding his anger. "You drive me so fucking crazy!" He screams and clenches his fists in front of him, nails digging into his soft tender palms. 

"You don't get to act like that, you fucking brat." Harry seethes, gripping his face in order not to lash out and hurt Louis like he's done him. "You go through my shit, but you're the only one— who's sleeping with _everyone—_ we seem to fucking know!" He barks all up in his ear and grabs his bicep, tightening his steel grip on him, probably bruising him in the process. 

"No! Let me go! Let me go!" Louis cries out with snot running down his face, his heart races. "You lied to me! I get to be the angry one!" He sobs and thrashes around, kicking and crying.

Louis goes nuts at seemingly nothing and in the process, is released from Harry's hold. He drops to the ground in hot tears, feeling of pathetic nothingness blooming in his chest.

"Stop being so fucking crazy Louis." Harry's calmed down after a deep breath and grabs Louis again to set him down on his own unnecessarily opulent bed. "Calm down." Louis shakes his head and hiccups, contradicting himself it seems to calm him down. 

"You made me like this." Louis cries out, Harry pretends he doesn't hear him though. “You did this to me.” He weeps erratically. 

"I'll let you delete the contacts off my phone okay?" Harry whispers, running his fingers through Louis' tumble of shaggy hair. "I won't talk to anybody you don't want me to." He leans down to kiss Louis' cinnamon berry scented strands of hair. "Mm, You smell like apple pie dumplin’." He coos and Louis whines, rubbing his head into Harry’s hard chest. 

"I wanna see your phone." Louis whispers and grabs the back of Harry’s work shirt. 

"Can I get a kiss first darlin’?" He pouts and waits for Louis to chastely press his chapped pink lips to his.

"If I kiss you, all you'll do is leave." Louis whines and weeps a little more. 

"I'll be right here baby—" then his watch beeps. Fuck. "Look I hate to do this to you, I swear I do— but I have to go. I'll call you later baby." Harry curses under his breath. He grabs a bunch of stuff that's too blurry for Louis to see and leaves like a phantom. His careless footsteps creak on the stairs and the slam of the front door is the last thing he hears before truly coming down from what seemed like an erratic breakdown.

Louis feels empty when he lays on his bed all cold again, and like the stupid déjà vu that hits him from time to time, Louis gets into bed, cries and cries, and cries again. He cries until his heart beats so fast he can barely feel it. There's a panic in his chest tightening and flexing. It's as if every breath of air he tries to swallow feels like an anvil coming down on his ribs, his mind is static and his lips are purple. He so tired of crying it makes him wanna cry a little more.

  
~  
  


He doesn't get out of bed the rest of the day. Instead, he watches as Cobra Kai eat cubes of apples and left over cheese he'd previously laid out. Most of the day is taken up by some other dumb stuff like listening to cassette mixtapes with a bunch of songs he'd randomly put together for a road trip he never had with Envy.

More later in the afternoon he gets a call from a few of his friends and; Zayn. He doesn't really care for him as Louis’ no good for him right now, he answers anyway.

"Howdy." Louis drones. 

"Hey I—Well I just wanted to know if you got my note."

"Yup."

"Well um did you read it?" Louis actually did read it, it was pathetically poetic. 

"Yeah look, I'm gonna be honest with you here I'm not entirely emotionally available right now so if you just wanna hook up or hang out we can do that." He hears Zayn sigh, he swears he could feel it on his neck.

"Well I don't just want to sleep with you Louis." He figured that. He just doesn't understand why Zayn would want a more significant part of his shit life than he's already had. "I want to take you out to dinner, and I want you to meet my parents." Louis sighs this time.

"I could do that I guess." And he hopes that doesn't come back to bite him in the ass; Karma is a stupid fucking bitch. "Um...Oh! Could you also get me some of those Lavender chocolate truffles we had last night too? They were real swell." Zayn ponders a little and agrees.    


“Oh really? You don’t have to, I was just pulling your leg.” Louis feels bad for always doing this to Zayn, he felt like a liability. “You don’t gotta go out of your way for me, it’s not a big deal I swear.”   


Zayn breathes out on the other end of the wire. “Yeah it is.”  
  


~

A week later it's the 4th of July and Everyone is scrambling to get invitations to a kegger he is being forced to attend, Envy as his best friend, is a major pain in his ass. She throws parties like they're in high-school again and although he's yet to be in his twenties it feels exhausting to be attending something like this every other goddamn day.

"Louis go ask Matty is he has any blow or a blunt for us, I forgot to bring my key." Louis whines at that, he stomps his foot and blubbers so...

"But I don't wanna! He smells like weed all the time, and I bet he has an STD this week I can't even pronounce." Louis deffo wants to. Matty just makes him blush and go gooey, Louis doesn’t like that. 

"Repeat after me; _Gonorrhea_." Louis snorts and picks at his nails whistling. "Louis!"

"I'm goin' jeez!" He screeches.   
  


~  
  


Just as expected Matty is watching some shitty romcom on Envy's couch with Harry. Who—by the way—both look baked as hell.

" _Matty_." Louis whines again and throws himself on the couch. His torso lands on Matty's lap and his thighs drape Harry's, livin’ la vida with Harry’s hand on his leg. 

"Wassup?" Matty’s words are slurred and stupid, just like they usually tend to be. Louis rolls his eyes, it makes him think of that one time he was driving Harry's van trying to get Matty to teach him to drive but, he was cooked then too. He wasn't paying attention then just like he's not now.

"Do you have any blow? Me and Envy want some." Harry snorts and looks away, his humongous hand still fondling Louis's thigh, he probably doesn’t even realise it because he’s so fucking stupid. 

"Why would you _ever_ need coke?" Harry says disbelievingly. His eyes are hooded and he's probably in space right now, as is Thing 2.

"To feed the nose, obviously." Louis wants to ignore him so bad but his dick looks huge in those gray sweatpants. 

"Lou babe I'm not giving you blow, you want a spliff instead?" Matty says and puts his hand under Louis' sweater playing with his belly piercing. Harry watches on. "When'd ya get that?" Matty asks and Louis puts his hand over his.

"Don't touch it! It tickles!" Matty is _soooo_ stupid. He's had it since junior year and they've known each other since a little after then, Harry knows, Matty should totally know! 

"Don't touch him like that." Harry finally hisses and sits up to rearrange their bodies but Louis stands up to get away from them and stomps his foot instead, scaring them both for being so abrupt. “Don’t you see he’s sensitive?” Harry is such a an idiot when he’s high. 

"I need some fucking blow or I'm gonna go ask some rando later to rub it all over my gums with his tongue." Harry bows his head and takes a swig of his bottled beer, he doesn't say anything.

"Fine fuck!" Matty is slow to give it to him so Louis snatches it and kisses his cheek.

"Much obliged Matty!" He tuts. 

"Tell Envy she owes me a blowjob!" Matty reports. 

"Ew! She's like our sister you perv!" Louis screeches from the stairs and waits by the railing for another response.

"So are you and I'd still fuck you—fuck!" He rushes up the stairs at that and leaves them to fight on their faux playground (in Envy's living room.) how mature of them.

Envy is still brushing and styling her strawberry blonde hair into pigtails when he gets back; she's a perfectionist in that sense.

"Didja' get it?" Louis grovels over to her and puts it on her Vanity. " _Nice_." She exclaims and puts the hair brush down to examine it. 

"I don't get why you had to invite Harry and Matty they're so weird!" He throws himself on the bed and kicks his feet like something of a tantrum.

"Chill bluebell," She snickers and ties her hair. Louis scoffs and lifts his head up. “Don’t act like you’re not obsessed with Matty and still hooked on Harry, besides they’re pretty chill, sometimes.” 

"To _you_ maybe! Harry's a dick! Aren't you supposed to hate him because I dumped him, like a best friend should?" He whimpers and covers his eyes dramatically, it makes Envy stop in her tracks and put a finger on her chin.

"No,"

" _Phooey_!" He retorts with arms crossed. 

"Harry is a dick but you're nuts kitty! level playing field." Louis nods his head like she's Einstein. She’s so smart he should write this down. "And Matty is the life of the party as much as I hate to admit that." _Matty was so cool._

"I wanna kiss Matty sometimes." He whispers and Envy gags.

"Ugh come on bluebell, He's _terrible_! He looks like he doesn't wash his balls."

"Yeah." He agrees. As much as he'd like to kiss Matty he's like a brother to him. _He also looks like he doesn't wash his balls._

"What's up with you and Zee?" Louis groans and shakes his head in her pillow.

"No! You know what let's not..."

"Okay, lets not." She looks him over and sees black and purple hickeys on his thighs. "Haribo?"

"Ugh!"

"Okay get over here I'm gonna do your makeup then." He gets up and plasters himself on her beanbag.

"I want loads of glitter." He mewls as Envy threads her fingers in his hair. "Loads of it."

"Loads of glitter I gotcha babe."

"Envy look there's peanut m&ms!" Envy smiles at him and nods her head. He's very aware she's hitting on some girl and her boyfriend. He's so proud of her, no one kisses girls like Envy. Unless it’s Harry! Then they both have that in common! 

"Louis lets go get you some water!" Zayn's voice barely travels above Matty's wasted Karaoke. Louis shakes his head though. He wants to do Karaoke too!

"I wanna do Karaoke!" He slurs and shouts way louder than he should have to. No one cares anyway, they’re too busy having fun.

"We could do Karaoke after you've had some water." Louis frowns, he's not some damn baby.

"You're so boring!" He drags it out and rolls his eyes at Zayn who looks kind of angry honestly, Louis either doesn't notice or is too fucked up to care. "Can we have sex later?" Everyone definitely hears that and cheers at them. It makes Zayn blush like crazy.

"Yeah we can, let's just please get you some water." Louis nods his head and smiles. He's getting 4th of July dick this is probably way better than whiskey dick! 

It's about five minutes to get to the kitchen partially because of Louis stumbling and falling but also because of all the damn people who seem to be packed like sardines around the perimeter of the house.

" _Mm_ , someone made jungle juice!" Louis squeals and pours some into his solo. Zayn is mentally praying for his sanity tonight. " _Oh come onnnn!_ Lets get wasted!" Zayn shakes his head.

"I'm trying to go sober." Louis rolls his eyes.

" _Surrre_." It's playful and sweet. It makes him smile, Louis rarely gets like this with him. "Oh! Oh! Matty just got off the karaoke machine!" Louis exclaims. 

"We should probably get going though-" Louis doesn't let him say another single word because he's hauling him away from the kitchen to the backyard. It smells like burnt packaged meat and burnt grass from the sparklers everyone kept lighting. "You didn't even drink the water-" they're still pushing and pulling through body mass until they're finally by the karaoke machine. Louis' already got the mic in his hand when Zayn turns to look at him again.

"Hi-hey everybodyyy! We're gonna do a big one! Here's Kids in America by Kim Wilde!" The only group of people by them cheers for Louis. Zayn stands there and sighs.  
  


~  
  


Zayn doesn't even look close to shitting out the stick in his ass when Louis' done doing blow off of the coffee table next to Envy who's making out in the lap of some same pink haired woman. 

"Envy you look so cool." Envy stops kissing cotton candy hair and winks at him just to dive back into her.

"Louis that's enough let's get you home." Zayn reprimands, Louis tsks and throws his head back on the couch instead.

"I thought you were gonna be cool tonight." He whines and pouts crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I am being chill you're just doing too much today." Louis rolls his eyes and sits back up to side eye him.

"Then why are you being a dickhead for no reason!" Louis screams in his face abruptly which in favor makes Zayn get up and walk away. "Run away like the scared little boy you are!" He mocks behind his back and sits back on the couch.

He huffs and looks over to Envy but she's gone and now he's alone. Coked up at a party all alone, isn't that sweet?

" _Heyyy_ , you good?" It's Matty. He's smoking a spliffand doing shit vape tricks making sure none of the smoke blows back to Louis.

"What do you want?" He grumbles and takes the remaining powder to his gums. Matty watches in awe.

"You're so different now then how you were back then." Matty gapes, fuck if he starts flirting with Louis they might end up jumping each other’s bones. 

"Yeah well a lot of shit happens." Louis clears his throat when he sees how Matty ogles the finger in between his lips. "Where's your _best friend_?"

"He's getting his dick rubbed by a bunch of chicks near the campfire." He smirks when Louis stiffens and tries to discreetly turn his head towards the open glass door. "Jealous?"

"Yes Matty, I'm so friggin' jealous of the _chlamydia_ he's spreading to our classmates." But he's still straining his neck on the look out.

"You're off your rocker." Matty sniggers higher than Louis maybe. "Why don't you go chat him up? _I bet he's washed his balls just for you_." He sing-songs. Louis purses his lips and looks at him icily.

"You don't think he knows I'm at my best friends kegger?" Matty shakes his head with his mouth open and closing like a trout. He's a little confused but he listens to Louis anyway. "He should've talked to me as soon as you guys saw me earlier."

"So you don't want to go see who's jumping on his dick right now?" Matty smirks and takes another drag of his blunt. Louis shakes his head and reaches for the spliff but Matty tsks and wags his finger."Uh uh uh!" Matty tuts and snatches the blunt out of his mouth, Louis is already as high as a fucking kite. He pretends to bite Matty’s fingers, and they sit there with Matty’s arm over his shoulder. Doing smoke tricks and shotgun kisses. 

  
~

Louis comes down from his high (but not really) a little later in the night and Matty walks behind him everywhere he seems to go just to make sure no one touches him or does anything stupid. It makes Louis want to slap him.

"You know I can fend for myself." Matty snorts and grabs him just in time before he trips over somebody passed out in the backyard.

"You're cunning like a snake but harmless like a fucking dove I'm taking you to your _boyfriend_." Louis panics and tries to turn away, but they're already like a foot away from Harry at this point; it's a useless fight.

"Harry," Matty announces, and the girls dancing near Harry don't stop to watch them. It makes Louis sneer and eye them up and down.

"Yeah?" He smirks from the rim of his beer and ignores them, watching the blonde girl grind her body on another girl for his amusement. Louis frowns and eyes his feet; he traces letters in the grass and feels pathetic.

"Louis needs a ride." Harry looks annoyed and looks at Matty like he's stupid.

"I'm drunk you fucking douchebag." Harry doesn't even accidentally meet his eyes and it makes Louis' throat constrict something ugly. He looks ghostly pale and is about to get sick all over these dumb fucking sluts. "You take him, I'm busy anyway."

"I left my bike on campus, you drove us here smartass." Matty retorts and sneers when Harry looks scathing mad but gets up from the white lawn chair anyway. He tosses his bottle to the trash area which doesn't even make it close to the bin and walks ahead of them.Matty looks at Louis. "Well go on then."   
  


~

Harry is walking Louis home who's just above tipsy trying to form the shape of his body from what he can make out from his blurry vision. Harry stops now and then to make sure he's still following him but other than that he makes no move to grab him or speak to him. It makes Louis sad because any other day they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off of each other.

"Are you mad at me?" Louis whines and stops just below a street light on the dirt path to his home. The greenery of the trees let the light cascade through the leaves and the milky glow of the white moon dance on their faces. "—Because if you're mad at me I don't want to go anywhere with you." Harry swivels around and marches up to his face.

He grabs him by the cheeks and smashes their lips together, all in an abrasive kiss; Harry's tongue laps at his teeth when he catches Louis by surprise. Their noses smush together everytime they turn their heads and Harry runs those same ring clad fingers under his blue sailor playsuit. 

They stop the kiss and Louis takes his hand to lead him back down the dirt road to his enormous house. There; they scramble to rip at each others clothes and continue through the sunroom where Louis grabs him by the belt loops and breathes into his mouth, Harrys back slouched to level his height. "I'm missing you like crazy." Louis whimpers and joins their lips again.

Harry nods and brushes his nose on Louis' cheek. "This doesn't have to mean anything." Harry says and Louis’ wicked façade crumbles and he nods his head too. He doesn't mean it though.

What a stupid cycle, Louis thinks. 


	3. The Birthday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Matty’s birthday and Harry’s got a new tattoo. Life is pretty sweeeeet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Highly suggest listening to The Birthday Party by the 1975 while reading as it’s inspired this chapter…(obviously) I’ve also not yet proof read so very sorry about the grammar errors, (shall there be any.) *edited* 11/30/20

Here's the thing with Harry and Louis' arrangement. First off, no one can know. Secondly, well, you don't mix business with pleasure; surely, they would've learned that by now.

~

"You reckon I look cool like this?" Envy's jaw is all over the place, and she looks like a mess. But Louis thinks he can entertain her for now.

"You look great." He says and well, lies. The truth is they probably already might be the coolest fucking people at this dingy club anyway. The whole place was full of wallflowers and yuppies, It was shit. The bouncers totally ID'd them at the door too in Louis’ honest opinion it was so fucking lame. At least his fake I.D was that of a higher caliber. "Oh, look! Harry's setting up bass." To Louis, Harry looks so freaking cool.

His hair all mussed up, silver rings and rockstar sexy, mm it’s like he was tempting Louis. Harry’s also got a band tee and skinny jeans that go on his legs for miles, It's like high-school all over again, although not really, that would be a riot. "He looks so _good_." Louis purrs.

"You know Zayn’s on drums, right? Your _real_ boyfriend?" She questions and quirks her eyebrow. How could Louis fucking forget? It's the whole reason he was dragged out here in the first place.

  
"Yeah, of course, _duh_." Although Louis did forget about him, just a _pinch._ Who wouldn’t when Harry Styles was _right there?_ _  
_

He won't admit that, though. Things have been steady with Zayn, and so far so good. "But Harry—sexy, am I right?" He quips, and Envy bumps her shoulder with his and shakes her head. "Whatever you say..." Louis trails of but he thinks Envy is a total liar. Harry is tier sexiness.

A rough estimate of about ten minutes later, Matty stumbles out with a glass of wine and a cigarette in the same hand, Louis wants to facepalm.

It's not even been three months since he's been back from rehab and he’s already falling down the same bendering rabbit hole.

Both He and Envy look on in disappointment. If only Matty would open his fucking eyes and see that everybody cared about him, Louis the most, but everybody anyway. 

Unaware of the attention Matty always brings on himself he sways again and Louis decides it's probably high time for an intervention sometime this month.

"I'm Matty Healy. We're Acid Maniac. This is 'Trash Chute.'" Matty slurs, He downs the rest of his [wine](https://folkcoure.tumblr.com/post/640634500332863488/wine) and straps his guitar. “Enjoy.”   
  


~  


They play surprisingly well.

Louis' surprised at least because when he looks at Envy for her reaction, she’s seconds away from tossing out her insides on the table booth, he tsks and pats her head. 

"I'm never chasing tequila with yellow Redbull ever again." She groans and holds her stomach. Louis scrunches up his eyebrows and genuinely feels pain for her. "Can we go back to yours and play twister?" Louis lets her lay her head in his lap and he nods. 

"'Course." He says and leans down to plant kisses on her forehead. “Night-Night Nat.” 

On Stage, He watches Matty stagger and rock on his feet between Harry and Zayn, who refuse to look at each other, and Louis smiles. Matty looks so happy despite being rushed from some drug Louis probably doesn't know how to pronounce.

If He's happy, Louis’ happy.   
  


~  
  


After the mediocre gig, Zayn and Harry help move the sound equipment into Matty's van. Meanwhile, Louis and Matty both sit on stage on top of _colossal_ amplifier smoking a spliff and watch them; they're sacks of shit. 

"I wanna go to Sweden or somewhere cool." Louis randomly thinks out loud but Matty nods his head in agreement, _Sweden is awesome._ "Eating chocolate in Sweden sounds so…so…pretty." Louis sighs and takes a drag of the spliff. 

He watches how Harry and Zayn are on an invisible mutual contract of ignoring each other’s presence. Louis feels to blame. 

"—I'd love to go to Sweden, sounds fucking ace," Matty says, Louis forgets what he was just thinking about, and throws his head back, laughing with a loud and wide mouth, Matty watches him with a stupid smile.

"What?" Louis asks meekly, he felt like a sort of blooming feeling whenever Matty looks at him like that.   


“Go on.” Matty encourages, ignoring the hesitance to Louis’ charm. 

"Imagine coming back from Europe and telling our friends. We'd be so cool." Louis sighs out and passes the withered blunt back to his semi-requited crush. 

"Stupid fucking cool." Matty blows out a cloud of smoke after hitting the spliff and tries passing it to Louis again. He refuses another round and Matty rolls his eyes with a cannabis smile. "Y’know bluebell, we’d probably get married," Matty says and smirks.

Louis scoffs and shoves at his shoulder. 

"As if I’d marry a junkie with existential dread! Only in your wildest dreams, partner." Louis giggles and covers his mouth with his fingers, smile glittering and blinding. 

Matty smiles something small and pathetic, melancholy on his face and agrees, it’s something that only happens in his wildest dreams. 

~

Louis feels comfortable, yeah. Yeah, no,—he totally feels okay with his ex sitting in his living room while his boyfriend has him in his lap.

Harry would look at them now and then. He's been smirking all night. His grin is taunting like he knows something no one else does. He’s so cocky, Louis should slap it off of him. 

Louis gets goosebumps every time their eyes meet, it’s like their illicit affairs flash through the back of his eyelids every time he catches Harry’s dark hooded eyes. 

He shudders at the recollection.

He’s no good at trying to cover it up because Zayn takes notice and rubs his arm with a pouty frown. 

"You cold? Want my jacket?" Zayn asks, and Louis looks back at Harry as he says that.

His plump bottom lip was tainted dark red with the _Merlot_ he was just swirling _around_ and ‘ _round_ in the palm of his hand, looking away to survey the living room further as if he hadn't been here a million times before. Louis bites his lip and crosses his legs. 

"Um, I'm okay, thanks." He whispers and tightly smiles. Zayn goes back to talking about a Dali piece with Matty.

Louis doesn't understand them or art, so he sits modestly quiet.

After a while he honest-to-god can't help but fidget and squirm on Zayn's lap, he's just had an entire top shelf to himself when they were at the venue, he's _horny_ or maybe about to piss himself. 

"Zayn, I'm gonna go to the bathroom." Louis whimpers, his bladder was getting the best of him too. So he jumps up when Zayn nods, barely listening, and let's go of him. "Be right back." Louis murmurs and leaves a sloppy kiss of red lipstick on his cheek. Though unexpectedly, Zayn pulls him back down by his bicep and kisses him hastily but firmly, Louis moans because _fuck yeah._ This is what he wants, he wants to be manhandled and raw-dogged, slam-fucked and speed-pounded over a fucking washing machine—

Zayn rests his hand back behind the couch and smiles warmly. "Hurry back." _Fucking dickhead._ Louis wants to spit in his face for being a jackass. He knows exactly what he's doing too!

Louis rolls his eyes and saunters away because he couldn't be bothered to care, although he's cursing him in his head and beheading him in his imagination.

He’s is still kind of disgruntled as he steps into the bathroom, all he wanted to do was a little blow and just fix his hair or something, but instead, he gets nudged further into the room, and the door snicks loudly. It's Harry.

"Oh, god, no!" Louis curses silently and smacks his forehead. "Harry, what the hell!" Harry shushes him and opens the door to double-check no ones lingering in the hallway, Zayn and Matty's voices still filter through the house, so that's that.

"You up for it?" Harry asks, and Louis shrugs. He takes the baggy of blow he had in his black stiletto and waves it in front of Harry's face.

"Are you?" Harry ignores the drugs and just grabs him by the sides of his face, taking said bag and placing it on the bathroom sink.

"Let's just fuck I've been horny all day." Harry’s says and Louis nods eagerly, undoing Harry's belt while all Harry does is lick and kiss at his neck. He's a bimbo and a dumbass as he tends to be, but lets Louis touch all up on his chest and biceps. _Harry's so jacked and ripped why would he ever need a brain anyway?_

"Oh my god, what's that?!" Louis shrieks breaking the streak of whispers they just had.

Harry looks down to his crotch, where Louis was pointing a _very_ accusing finger.

"I got a tattoo." Harry smiles but doesn’t move to show him. 

"You're a fucking idiot. I can clearly see that!" Louis tries to pull carelessly at his pants, down and over his balls for a better look, but Harry hisses and smacks his hand, pulling it down himself in a more careful and gentle manner.

Louis holds a breath, then deadpans and looks at his stupid face. " _Avoines_." It's French. Harry cheeses and nods like he's not just done a crime against humanity. "As in to sow your fucking oats," Louis asks but it sounds more like a demand, he doesn't even want to know anyway. Harry nods his head again, and his smile is faltering quickly when he notices Louis' disbelieving look.

"Yeah, What? You don’t like it?" He questions and looks down at the tattoo and back up at Louis a couple of times as if he's just done something terrible. Good, that's how he should feel. He probably doesn't.

"You're so Cajun. It's not even funny." Louis spits and Harry pouts and leaves his pants unbuttoned standing there like an idiot scratching at his head like an ape, Louis sighs and motions him over.

Harry smiles again when Louis touches the saran wrap with the tip of his fingers, probing delicately.

"Yeah, I think the shticks’ getting old." Harry tuts, Louis giggles more lightheartedly and shoves Harry on his ass over the toilet seat so that Louis could finally get on his knees.

Harry chuckles and shimmies entirely out of his rockstar black jeans.

~

Three days later Louis and Zayn make dinner reservations. 

"I don't expect to be wine and dined, but…should I get a nice meal well, then you don't see me complainin’." Louis and Zayn are going on a 'trip,' and it's not even the good kind where he gets all loopy and sweaty. A good trip is acid or mushrooms or something! For Christ's sake, any trip is a good trip that's not him, basically committing to the first person that's not been Harry Styles.

"We are _going_ to a restaurant, you should expect to be wine and dined. And a nice meal inclusive to the date. I swear your standards are lower than mine." Zayn grumbles, that's a double whammy, _ouch_! Louis laughs at his own thoughts. He's such a funny guy. "You're delusional." Zayn sighs and combs his hair to the side. It looks okay...it's just not _sexy_.

"Can you put your lip piercing in." Louis pleads and twitches. It's like a tick of his to continually pull at one. It's dire, yup, he's developed the habit over the years.

"Louis we’re going to dinner with my parents." Louis looks around and shrugs slowly.

" _So_?..."

"So, I'm not putting any of my piercings in." Zayn scolds and Louis huffs and knocks back in a chair swiveling from side to side then he glows as a brilliant idea strikes him.

"I'll suck you off, _pleaseee_!" Louis cries, kicking his legs out in a tantrum. 

"For Christ's sake, read the room, Louis," Zayn says, exasperated. Louis unbuttons his pants and wiggles his nose.

"I'll let you eat me out?" Louis meekly questions, and Zayn looks at him again and nods.

~

No offense, but Zayn's parents _suuuck_. They're not funny, and they look mad all the time; it's like they birthed out a clone, and now Louis' stuck dealing with it. Karma came back and not only ate his ass but fed it to him too.

Zayn looked at him once and started talking about his major and minors, like Louis wasn't there. It's almost like he wasn't, really. So it's not like he cared. All he did the entire meal was play with his food and slurp on his clam chowder anyway.

"Louis does ballet, and he's really good," Zayn says to his parents, and Louis blushes because hell, a compliment is a compliment. "He's an agriculture minor and a dance major. I'm really proud of him." Zayn looks at him this time and touches his face from where his hand is rested behind Louis' chair. Louis flushes and looks at Zayn's parents, who are smiling at both of them with knowing eyes. Zayn has amber eyes of love, and it's sort of suffocating.

"I also play Stardew Valley all the time. It's not nice, and it's not sweet. I have a full-blown addiction." Louis blurts out, a bead of sweat falls from the back of his neck. Zayn’s parents laugh, and Louis wants to stab them. Just when he wants to blow this whole thing out of the water, he's finally made a good impression. "Well, Zayn does take care of me." He murmurs, trying to give them the other side of the coin, Louis' not a total piece of shit after all.

"You're such a nice boy." Zayn's mom says and smiles at him. _Ugh! What the shit!_

Zayn kisses the back of his hand, and Louis sort of melts and looks around the venue. This isn't so bad.

He stills in his chair as all his worries try to wither away, but like an anchor at the front of his head, those wild green eyes twinkle through his sanity, tattooed hands hold the rope end of his senses and he shudders.

"Anyone want dessert? I know I'd kill for a Banana Foster right now _mm, mm, mm._ " Louis jokes, but really, the air around him is closing in, and he'd like a last meal before he eats his words.

"Get whatever you want, baby. It's on me." Zayn kisses his hand again and goes back to talking about his abstract piece he's not yet finished. "It's a déclassé portrait of Marie Antoinette, Louis actually inspired it." Louis is bayou trash so he knows what déclassé means. Honestly he doesn't know if it's a compliment or an insult. He just smiles and nods his head, menu set up over the table in front of his eyes like a standee. "I was just looking at his eyes and it reminded me of the fabric of one of her gowns, the elegant frill and ruffle. Puff sleeves and—" Zayn looks over to him and Louis lifts his ruddy face to stare at him innocently. Well, Almost innocently, as innocent as blue could get. "—and well the pale bluish gray silk of her dress, that just came naturally." Zayn does have a nice way with words, it's true, but Louis has a nicer way with his tongue he's planning on using later tonight.

It was also really hard for Louis to sit there and take compliment after compliment, he's not heard things like this in his entire life. But he liked it, It was like they were sitting there and feeding him cake, frosting and all the jimmies!

"Can we go home now?" Louis leans over and asks in a soft sound.

~

They depart from the scene, but they don't go straight home—instead, Louis demands to stop at Froyo truck they see in a parking lot of a huge mega mall. They stay there and talk for a while.

"I like your parents--I think." Louis breaks the silence and Zayn's eyebrows fly up still licking the spoon they were sharing. "They were real nice." Louis opens his mouth for another scoop of yogurt and Zayn obliges.

"I didn't think you would honestly." Zayn admits and Louis nods in agreement.

"Me neither how crazy's that?" He cheeses and Zayn deadpans. "What? I'm only saying, gosh. It's not like I hated them." He totally did, at first at least.

-

"Oh my—fucking god." Louis squeals and tries to burrow his red hot face into his comforter but his head keeps sliding up and down the silk as he's pounded from behind. His body is arched like a cat and he's been trying to grind his hips back unto the cock he's indulging in but Harry slaps his ass everytime he does and grabs him by the shoulders to rock his hips at a steadier and nimble pace.

"You like that?" He pants above him and gropes his ass jiggling it in his hand just to let it go and slap it again. "Tell me you fucking love it baby."

"I love it, oh my god I love it." Louis' eyes roll back and gnaws his lip going cross eyed. Harry's stroke game is so good. Then, Harry grabs him by the back of his biceps and pushes him down unto the mattress, he crosses Louis' arms behind his back and grabs his wrists. Rocking and rolling his hips all sloppily inside of him.

"Oh fuck." Harry curses and his voice cracks as a shudder runs down his body. With one hand he grabs the headboard that's been slamming into the wall like a metronome and puts his all his strength into his savage thrusts. "I'm cumming, oh god I'm cumming." He gasps out and takes one of his knuckles into his mouth, rolling his eyes into skull again. 

"Don't come in me." Louis' voice quivers and as do his thighs, he can barely stay upright as his own orgasm is already hitting him. "Don't come in me I’m not on plan B," he looks back at Harry and tries not to shiver. "Harry _mmph_ pull out." Suddenly Louis' own vision is clouded with white luminescence and delirious intensity, his body twitches like that and his mouth gapes open as his chest heaves.

Harry's still fucking at him with rabid vision but as he seems to sloppily speed up, a shaky hand reaches down between them and trembling; he pulls out. His cock already spurting white gobs of cum when it drags over Louis' ass and unto his back where he uses three fingers to jerk off the rest of his high.

"Oh shit." Harry pants and wheezes, he convulses over him and finally collapses above him, his dick still twitching in between them both. Louis catches his breath and stares at Harry's sweaty face, giggling because Harry looks all worn out. "You have the stamina of a damn horse." Harry says and dries his face with the ascot they have on the nightstand, Louis flips over and snatches it to wipe Harry’s tummy. 

"You’re only nineteen old man." Louis giggles again and reaches down to grip Harry's balls in his hand.

" _Ah God!_ " Harry moans and trembles again. "You’ve basically milked me dry quit it." Louis honks a laugh out and sits up; Harry watches him like a lost puppy. They always cuddled after sex-- _always_. 

"I gotta go, this was fun." Louis announces as he walks through Harry's trailer, picking up his clothes that he's left stranded in Harry’s tiny living room and connected kitchen. Harry rushes behind him, struggling to pull up his jeans, jumping up and down to get them up and over his thighs.

"Wait, don't you um—" Louis quirks his eyebrow and waits. "Well don't you wanna _like,_ stay a little longer?" Harry asks. He catches his breath and zips up his pants looking at Louis for a final answer, hands on his hips.

Louis' heart swells and he doesn't even give it another second thought. —" _Yes_."

"Cool um do you wanna watch a movie?" Harry asks and clears his throat, walking entirely into his living room to sit down on his old green sofa and pick out a movie on his T.V. Louis stands in the threshold and scratches the back of his neck. "You gonna sit down?" He moves a filthy bong full of ashes to the carpeted floor with no precaution and pats the spot next to him.

Louis nods keenly and takes a seat fairly close to Harry who gazes at him hesitantly before releasing a sigh and going back to pick a movie.

Louis follows him with his eyes in the blackness. The television light is practically the only thing keeping them from full blanketed darkness. What was Harry thinking about? Was he thinking of somebody else? Louis scowls and looks to Harry again, he had his eyebrows bunched in concentration. They were watching a cartoon movie, _geez_. 

Louis giggles for no reason and rests his hand in the space between their thighs. He lifts his pinky up to brush Harry's clothed thigh and tries to garner his attention away from the movie.

It works unsurprisingly, because Harry looks down and instead of taking Louis’ hand in his he fakes a yawn and settles his arm around his shoulders. It makes Louis blush and gleam like the sun and all the little stars pickled across the sky. It was so Highschool of them; so adolescent and innocent. 

"You like it when I'm sweet on you?" Harry leans down and mumbles in his hair. Louis is super rosy and sweaty. " _Hmm?_ " He rubs his arm and pulls Louis to his chest a little.

"Yeah," Louis meekly murmurs and squeezes Harry's thigh thrice. Harry inhales the odour of his hair softly and settles this chin on top of his head. "I do.” 

-

About no less then twenty minutes into the film, Louis sits sideways on Harry's lap like a little kid and has his tongue in Harry’s mouth, they both personify adolescence.

" _Mm_." Louis moans and runs his hands in Harry's hair pushing It back and treading his slender fingers through the curly tufts. " _Mmmm!_ "

"Mhm." Harry agrees and licks at Louis’ tonguea little more.

Then like a bad fucking omen Louis' phone starts vibrating and chiming. He wants to throw it out the fucking window but stills when he realises it's Zayn's name flashing across his screen. "Shit Zee's calling me." Louis pants but Harry ignores him and moves down his face to plant kisses on his neck. "Don't make any noise." He warns panic like. 

"Mm." Harry moans and continues to lap at Louis’ neck like a damn dog, slavering all over his bobbing throat. "Ask him how my rainbow dick tastes." Harry smiles into his neck and chuckles huskily.

"Shut up." Louis whines and tries to kick him, "You're so stupid." He whispers and digs his face into Harry's shoulder. " _Hiii!_ " He answers the phone before the dial tone picks up and puts it on speaker phone.

"Hey, I just got off of work. Where are you?" Zayn sounds bored, leave it up to Louis to entertain this motherfucker.

"I'm—" Louis looks at Harry and he scrunches his eyebrows and shrugs. "I'm at my pedicure appointment." Harry snorts quietly and goes back to kissing at his neck.

"You want me to pick you up?" Harry lifts his head up and mouths ' _simp_.' Louis giggles and hits him. "What's so funny?"

"My feet tickle." Louis quickly replies and brings a hand up to brush Harry's hair back who’s leaned back down to kiss at his collarbone. Harry flashes his green eyes at him and smiles, it makes Louis’ heart stutter.

"Okay do you want me to start on dinner? I picked up a bottle of the wine you like." Louis feels a sudden sensation of coldness in his chest and nods, obviously Zayn doesn't see it. "I could make some pasta?"

"Yeah, yeah um just —anything? Anything sounds good? I'll be home in half an hour." He pales at the slip of his tongue and gulps, Harry lifts his head up with a look of disbelief on his face.

"Okay have fun baby." Zayn says on the other end. Harry's lips come down into a frown and glares at the phone then back at Louis like he's just committed a felony.

"Okay thanks bye." Louis says before he hangs up quickly and tries to avert his eyes, setting his phone down on the coffee table.

Suddenly, Harry grips his face and turns Louis’ head harshly around to face him again, much to his dismay. "What the _fuck_ was that?" He asks and holds Louis’ face harder when he shakes his head.

"Nothing, it was nothing." He whispers childlike and tries to take Harry's hands of his face.

"No? That was nothing? Him showing up at _our_ fucking house straight after work and making you dinner was nothing? ‘ _Home_?’ Does that also mean nothing to you?!" Louis swivels his head left and right, still trying to remove the unyielding hold on his face. "Look at me or I'll _fucking_ kill you." Harry growls and Louis goes frigid, Harry rarely gets this angry when he’s sober.

"He's sweet on me, I--I think we're going steady." Louis admits quietly and tries to make out the look on Harry's face but his eyes have started going wet and blurry. “But I swear--Harry I swear it doesn’t mean--”

"Oh of course you do, it never means anything to you!" Harry sounds so sinister and Louis still can't see. "So what? You were just gonna not tell me?!" He screams in his face finally and Louis shakes his head, tears trickle down his face and under his chin. "You were gonna run off into a fucking sunset with him?! --And leave me here?! Leave me all alone?! _Forget about me?!_ " Harry booms but then he laughs like nothing is actually funny; It sounds pained and hysterical. "You used me for what you wanted, so that must be your calling, _right_!? _Wow! What a plan!_ " Harry barks and tugs at his hair, trying to grab ahold of something but the sturdiness of his hair doesn't satisfy his temper. He grabs a wooden chair from his shitty dining setup and throws it against the wall. Louis covers his mouth with his hand and yelps. His mouth gaping, he looks at Harry with wide eyes and shakes in his shoes. Harry pushes his hair back and kneels down to shove his face in Louis' thighs. "I hate you I fucking hate you.” Harry’s blubbering with his lips shaking and trembling from where he’s gone and dug his blooming face.

"I'm gonna--go." Louis says It's barely above a whisper, Harry doesn't say anything but lifts his head of curls from his lap and waits until Louis breaks aeay from him and steps towards the threshold to finally speak again.

"If you walk out that door I'm done." Harry warns watery. "You hear me?! This hot and cold shit? I'm fucking _through_ with it." Louis stiffens but his hand is already twisting the doorknob and the knife in Harry’s heart. Harry's a looming shadow over his small body, a big bad beast. “We’re never gonna happen again.”

“Yes we will.” Louis says and closes the door behind his back. He sighs, eyes brimming with tears, he strolls away. 

-

The aftermath of Harry's fallout is more like fire smoke still falling in the wind and Louis tries his best to avoid all the articles of ash.

So far all he's been able to do besides think of Harry's deranged outcry, is remodel his kitchen with a loud cacophony of patterned wallpaper and pricey little baubles and tchotchkes littered across his kitchen counters. Zayn approves as he would with such a bohemian impression he's left.

And while he was distracted, Zayn had put up some canvases in his sunroom during an evening Louis was reading a book on restoring agriculture in bed and has left it there since. No arguments from his part.

Now, he tiredly yawns into his arm and slaps his mail onto his coffee table, he angrily rips the first letter, the first thing that he had to hear in the morning had to be the fucking news weather forecast telling him it was going to be a big old rainstorm, three consecutive days in a row. He turns off the television and as it were, rips through all his letters and even tossing one from his mother into the garbage.

Louis sighs and covers his eyes with the back of his arm. "Ugh garbage!" He wails and stomps his foot.

He wanders around the house on his phone and opens his Facebook, he hasn't checked it in days, but he got a notification from Harry's updated status and decided to browse. 

Louis is so envious of all his friends squeezing out babies. It's like every time he opens his Facebook he gets hit with a disgusting ' _Live. Laugh. Love_.' couple ready to get married or pop one out. Well, _Phooey_! That should be him. He doesn't want to end up a loser nobody at his high-school reunion. This is life picking him off slowly, peeling him like a sticker, _well fuck that._

Louis laughs at some dumb baby videos and coos at them too. Then he scrolls through his feed and finally lands on Harry's status that's gone from ' _ **It's Complicated**_ ' to;

_**Single.** _

His face grows hot and his fingers tremble with anger. _How could he have just done what he said he would? Who does exactly what they say? What kind of game is that?_ Louis hearts the status and rushes to tap on Harry's inbox.

**Louis Tomlinson** : Congrats on the single life.

He watches three dots bubble then disappear, he gets a thumbs up instead, Harry is so stupid. Well fuck him then, if he wants to proceed fucking up their chances Louis might as well follow through with it too. Louis pictures a sharp guillotine in his head and chuckles evilly. Fucking dick for brains.

Instead of inviting Harry over for a playdate Louis posts a picture of him and Zayn in bed. Louis' head on Zayn's tattooed chest.

Louis tags him in it. The caption is some bullshit like _'My baby'_ in French. Louis types it so fast he forgets. He doesn't care either as he posts it and goes back to Harry's page to refresh it a million times before he too--has a post on his page.

It's a picture of him on the fraternity's couch with a girl buried under his arm. The caption is so fucking stupid it makes Louis want to tear his hair out; ' _The Greek life._ ' No big deal. Harry’s just asking for attention is all, Louis tries to reassure himself as if it’ll do any justice to his aching heart. 

He eyes the picture a million times and tries to deconstruct their body language and the way Harry’s pupils look ten times larger than Louis’ on coke. Then there’s the girl, her head was shining locks of golden hair and her lips were despicably red. Louis wants to cry and then laugh. Instead, he turns off his phone and sits on his bed.

His lip wobbles when the only thing that runs through his mind is the same gritty picture like a film reel.

He wants to crawl into his mother's arms and bawl like a baby. He wants her to hold him like a child and tell him he's gonna be okay--But, his mother is hundred of miles away from here and far out of a warming reach anyway. He cries and cries until he falls asleep with tear tracks on his face. So cold and alone and without the warmth of his mother. 

He dreams of something akin to that of his mother and that does more than enough to appease him. 

-

There's a lot of socials and such Louis has slipped out on. Even Zayn has probably been to more gatherings by now, and all Zayn does is get drunk at home by himself so this only come as a huge shocker.

Envy is the first to bicker with him about the lack of face he's shown. 

"Get off your ass and get to _DKE_ tonight. It's Matty's birthday and there's a kegger we’re throwing for him." Envy boasts, but all Louis wants to do is get under his covers and purr. He's very cat like in that sense.

"What? Matty isn't even in _DKE!_ Tell him I've up 'n died." Louis moans. "It'd be too soon if I ever show face there again." He _double_ moans.

"Harry's hosting and it's gonna be mega wicked cool with a bunch of booze. Blue--ugh look, just get to the party or else." She warns, Louis rolls his eyes at her empty threats.

"Oh no, I'm trembling in my boots." He speaks monotonously and hangs up on her.

Then he eyes his contact list as Envy's name disappears from view, he slides down carefully and hovers his finger over his Mother's contact, he hadn't phoned her in _months_. _What would he say anyway? Hey I'm sorry I left you? I'm sorry I got so angry and ran away?_ A familiar sense of anger rushes through him and he clicks on his fathers contact instead.

"Daddy?" He asks and returns the call to speaker.

"My heart! Well what a pleasant surprise, I feel as though I haven't heard from you in weeks!" His father exclaims, It's in that old mid-Atlantic accent everyone adores. It's the one thing his dad was always asked about, the way people would draw to him naturally was so transparent. "How are you _mon cherie_? Is life just the same chaos in the bayou as it always has been? _Hahaha!_ Don't take any of what I'm saying to heart, _heart_." His dad chortles and Louis rolls his eyes with the same soft smile as always.

"I could never." Louis says and there's a comfortable silence between them. "Well I just wanted to ask how you were and—um— _momma_ , is she okay?" Louis twirls his bedsheets like the string of a rotary phone and bites his lip, _he’s just a little curious is all._

"We're doing _fine_ darling! Splendid even! Though I've been on the up and up, your mother's been going to the post office quite often and I've no way of knowing who she's sending letters to, have you got a clue my darling?" His dad knows exactly what he was doing he was practically baiting for a bit of knowledge.

"Daddy I haven't read any of the letters." Louis admits with an exhausting sigh, his dad hums and let's it go.

"Well if you insist I guess I'll have to take your word for it. Although I have no idea how I'd be able to take words seeing as they're a verbal notion! _Hahaha!"_ Louis stifles a giggle as he doesn't wish to encourage his jovial like father. Dad jokes are his specialty unfortunately.

" _Bye_ Daddy." Louis urges impatiently.

" _Au revoir mon sucette_!"

-

Louis decides his life is shit and he should do this one solid for Matty 'cause he could always get him back anyway. He spends an unhealthy amount obsessing over his nail polish assortment, now his fingernails are black and his toenails; a space ranger-chic, metallic blue.

Then as if he couldn't feel even more rushed, Matty phones him and Louis' honestly picky on what he should say to him, should he want to fuck around with him-- _well_ , Louis’ not completely opposed to that idea. "Matthew Healy whaddaya want?" Louis' tongue is sticking out of his mouth in concentration with his toes pressed wide apart because as God as his witness he's not going to fuck up this nail polish.

"It's my birthday and this is the greeting I get?" There's a long pause because Louis is well enough distracted. "You sound _absolutely_ indecent, Tell me baby, what are you wearing?" Louis sighs melodramatically and Matty sighs just as exaggerated. "Why can't you just entertain the idea of being with me?" Matty says jokingly but Louis is dead serious when he says,

" _Oh Matty._ If only you knew." Louis says and tries to shove a gel separator in between his little toes.

"Don’t you play with me.” Matty hisses but then there’s a breathy laugh through the wire. “You coming to the party tonight? I've only got an ounce on me but we could share just gotta let me know so I can save you some good kush." Matty was the best at spotting Louis, even if Matty never asks for anything in return.

"Hmm, you should save some for me just in case." Louis keeps him guessing although Matty does groan and it makes Louis snicker.

-

The Frat house smells like sweat and Axe deodorant spray, no wonder Harry's decided to live off campus, it was ferociously masculine. Louis twists his mouth and walks through the living room and into the kitchen. He hasn't seen Zayn around which is very much like him to stay away from the _DKE_ house now that he's started his major. 

Louis feels nervous (for the first time in a long time.) Where the hell is everybodyhe knows? He doesn't spot DKE or basic sorority girls he mingles with, not even his close friend group as he steps in. 

Well, as he deep dives further through the house he finds out exactly why. Reigning _King of Kegs,_ Harry _Fucking_ Styles--funnelling beer through a pink beer bong while his idiotic brothers pour multiple cans and bottles at the top of the funnel, _slumming_ in the kitchen--cherribg him on, they all chant for him and Harry stupidly humors them.

Louis has never been this unamused. He fades into their view and they all rehash their mantra, 'Ooo's' ricochet through the kitchen and Louis rolls his eyes.

Harry slowly opens his eyes and looks at Louis but continues to drink from the beer bong in loud gulps. Louis wants to question his taste in men but that's just a road he doesn't want to go down again, at least not tonight.

Harry finishes off the beer and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand roaring at his new record, everyone else does too. Louis wants to re-evaluate his life.

Harry steps towards Louis and kisses him in greeting. “Mwah!” Harry announces after pecking him. Louis smells the beer before he tastes it and Harry smiles and wraps his arm around Louis’ shoulders who hunches with the weight of his huge bicep. "Baby's here!" Harry screams happily and squishes Louis' cheeks. Louis’ is absolutely dumbstruck butsays put besides the rowdy drunk. "Say hi to my friends baby." Harry whispers like it's a secret and Louis might agree that it is.

"Hey."

-  
  


They stay like that the whole night. Harry and Louis glued together and both have conversations of their own at times but Harry will stop talking to whoever's trying to flirt with him and question Louis' intruders.

As for Louis, he has seen little of Envy and Matty as Harry won't let him leave his side and insists on going everywhere together. Harry would talk to people and try to implement Louis in all his conversations as much as he really doesn't want to because he doesn't know half of Harry's friends, it's still sickening sweet of him.

"This is my boyfriend, He's my baby." Harry greets a rando and gushes on about Louis. He's incredibly sexy right now, being all sweet on him but Louis would like a glass of whiskey neat as he is incredibly parched.

"Haribo can we go to the kitchen?" Louis asks sweetly and Harry's curls bounce on his head when he nods and Louis breathes out a universal thank you. 

Although it does take a while to get to the kitchen only 'cause it's like the people moving to and fro try to eat their bodies with heat and Harry doesn't like that. Circling his body with Louis' he feels a blanket of euphoria.

"I'm so happy you're here." Harry mumbles and breathes in his hair sighing like a school girl and gushing like candy. "So happy you're here with me."

"Me too." Louis whispers and seals their lips in a scandalous kiss. "We really shouldn't do this though. I don't wanna do this to Ze-" He pulls away and bites his lip seeing Harry pucker his lips for more.

"Why? _Pleaseee_!" Harry cries with angst. "Is it because I messed up?" He asks petulantly and Louis feels bad watching his lip wobble. Harry did fuck up but Louis' not gonna make him feel bad while he's already terribly drunk. "—Because I hurt you?"

"No it's not—I just can't—I can't do this to you or to myself." Louis meekly says but Harry shakes his head and kisses him again, it's childish and sloppy, but Louis loves it. "Let's go see Matty!" Louis chuckles breathlessly and tries to change the topic. Harry jumps up and leads them away with a wag to his finger.

"We _have_ to see Matty! Don't you know it's his birthday?" Harry exclaims and takes them through the house eventually finding Matty lounging about in the living room with a bunch of other guys Louis doesn't know, Matty's always been a chatty one, flirting and feeling of mental superiority, and thus here he is.

"Hey if it isn't my two favourite people in the entire world!" Matty yells out in surprise because he wasn't sure if Louis would show.

Harry cheeses and lets go of Louis' hand to hug Matty tightly, hands around his neck. Louis smiles at them and then goes in for a group hug. "You _guys_! Oh you're gonna make me blush." Matty says and flicks a hand towards them, going back to his spot on the couch.

Harry takes ahold of Louis by the waist and pulls him into his chest, he's been trying to put his hand under his shirt to play with his belly piercing for a while now but Louis would slap his hand away although now that Louis' distracted Harry has the pleasure of rubbing it between his fingers. Louis giggles.

"Happy Birthday Matty!" Harry screams wildly and everybody starts mumbling and looking towards them. Louis hears an abundance of chatter. And as if on queue, a bunch of scrawny little _DKE_ pledges haul in a huge sheet cake through the room chanting and modelling. _Oh brother,_ Louis thinks. (quite literally)

" _Happy Birthday to you, Happy birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Matty, Happy Birthday to you!"_ People continue hollering and Matty fakes a gasp as the sheet cake is revealed in front of him. Louis tries to get on his tip toes to see it over Matty's shoulder and get a peak of the cake.

_What the fuck?!_

"Who the hell did that?" Louis curses at the picture in question and blushes a deep crimson red. Harry laughs and looks at the cake like he's never seen the real thing.

"It's just what I wanted! This is _insane!_ _Aw_ thanks lads!" Matty exclaims and cheeses at a bunch of cameras. He let's Louis in for a closer look. It's his fucking ass in those pink panties he took for his Instagram and his Instagram _exclusively_. He groans and covers his face but Harry grabs him by the elbows and pulls his hands down, making him pose for a picture with Matty. 

After they've all taken they're fair share of pictures with the birthday boy Harry announces, "Now Matty, I only agreed because you said I could have the left cheek and you could have the right." Harry says sternly but he's so incredibly sloshed it's so slurred and barely comprehensible. Matty nods nonetheless and cuts the cake handing everyone their respectable slices. 

Louis glares at them both but feels a warm blooming sense in his chest, he smiles small and brief before taking a bite of his cake. 

-

Matty and Louis pick up a conversation about _Amsterdam_ and _Berlin, Patagonia_ and _Santorini_. They exclude Harry without meaning to and they doesn’t realise that as Harry’s increasingly getting more drunk by the hour, his eyes bounce between them and looks far away as he plays with his hands.

”Hey-” Harry tries but Louis is grabbing Matty by the shoulders and raving about French pastries and Egyptian cotton. Harry’s eyes droop but he doesn't stop eyeing the way Louis holds his best friend. 

"I'm--sorry--uh-- _fuck,_ I'm gonna go get a beer." Harry mumbles and strays away like an eyelash and Louis finally watches him from the corner of his vision, all petulant and drunk.

It's like backslap to the face when Harry let's go off his hand and instead of heading to the kitchen he inserts himself into another group of people who look dressed to the nines. Who the fuck shows up to a frat party like that? _Freshmen garbage_. 

Then Louis’ world stops. Harry shifts his posture and bounces on his heels, he turns his body to stand behind a blonde girl and swigs one of his arms around her neck. He realizes that's she seems familiar. Then it dawns on him that it’s the girl with the crimson stained lips, like crushed berries handpicked and tenderly placed into a basket to create her on a pottery wheel of clay, she was perfect.Harry doesn’t turn back to look at him not even for a split second.

His world collapses, sitting there listening to Matty in slow motion. Louis can hear his heart thwack like branches against his bedroom window, nimble and paced.

It's like an arrow through the heart, sparking at the revelation, that this whole time his vision was clouded by a veil so suddenly lifted above his eyes too much like that of blushing bride eager to please. 

It stupidly doesn't stop him from watching how Harry whispers in her ear and looks about ready to promise her the rest of his life, because that's what he does. Harry's always been devoted to debauchary, as much as Louis tried to make an honest man out of him, he just couldn’t, he realises that now. 

His ears ring static and his chest is erratic with breaths. Then he tries to muster up an excuse to up and leave but Matty disrupts any hope of that. "I thought you and Harry were for keeps you know." Louis' eyes water as he looks at Matty, his breath is brittle as he breathes out and Matty's eyes widen.

" _I don't think so_." Louis' voice wavers and his eyebrows twitch, he allows his eyes to leak, bringing his hands up to his eyes he sobs, voice hoarse and his whines high. “ _Oh, Matty_.” His face crumbles, cardigan paws covering his entire face abashedly, curtaining the blue and gray feeling of his soul. “I don’t know what to do.” Louis wails and cries louder, drawing undesired attention to them both. 

“ _Fuck_ bluebell...” Matty looks around apprehensively, and grabs Louis by his elbows. Louis’ hands were still covering his eyes to not show how pathetic he’s coming across. “Bluebell come on don’t cry, you’re alright. Come on babe.” Matty leads them to an abandoned hallway of the huge Greek house and tries pushing Louis’ hands away from his red, sore eyes. 

When Louis finally lets him do so, he looks up at Matty and sobs even harder, “Don’t look at me.” He wails. “Please don’t look at me, I feel so pathetic.” He weeps loudly and tries to sniffle his snot away. 

“Bluebell, I’m not gonna judge you, you know that.” Matty tsks and grabs him by the waistline, pulling him into the warm feeling of his body. “I want you to be okay, look at me.”

Louis pulls away and tilts his head to the right, Closing his sad eyes again, he lets them bag under his eyelashes. Matty wipes Louis' tears and hushes his whines. Louis can't bear to open his eyes and see the way Matty looks at him, like he's holding great amounts of pity for him. 

" _The skin that you’re in is all soft now.”_ Matty whispers and unbuttons his previously attired trench coat, shrugging it off to put it over Louis’ frail shoulders. 

“ _And your bones_.” Matty’s voice lilts, he takes his leather gloves off. “ _Are dry as ice_.” He finishes in a soft sing-song.   
  
“Keep going.” Louis weeps softly.

“ _Why you sitting ‘round here for? And why you sad?_ ” Matty grabs each of Louis’ ice cold hands and fits his gloves on his tiny hands and slender fingers, careful not to chip his polished nails. “ _Cause everybody’s pushing out babies now_.” Matty sings and Louis giggles, still broken with sadness. 

“ _In the mornings I was getting high with you._ ” Matty sings brokenly and smiles at his own slip up/voice cracks. Louis giggles with him and feels his heartache twinkle and wither away. When he realises why, he frowns and watches Matty close his eyes and continue to sing for him; Matty was beautiful, and sweet and _nice_ to him, _always.“In the mornings I was getting high with you-”_ Louis shudders and decides it’s now or never. He bends his head back and cranes his neck to gently place his cracked, dry lips over Matty’s cold purple mouth, cutting him off mid vocal run. 

Matty kisses back like it wasn’t anything new then, he means to bring his hand up and caress Louis’ hair or cheek, but he reels back instead. “Woah, bluebell-” He says shocked and eyes blown, now aware of what they’ve just done. Louis interrupts him again and grabs him and his head of curly black hair, he moans and whimpers all the same. 

Matty makes a noise in his throat but it quickly dies out, he knows this was as good as he was gonna get it.   
  
Louis was _incorrigible_.   
  


-

They [kiss](https://folkcoure.tumblr.com/post/640633216476364800/hallway-kiss) for hours, as it seems. Not kisses like a ghastly primal desire between them both, no. —but more like a sense of obliteration of the party they were sitting in, like the calm before a shit storm. 

Matty would take anything Louis gave him though, rushing him was far from the front of his mind and in turn Louis grabs him by the loops of his black skinny jeans and crushes their pelvis’ together, robbing Matty’s tongue from his mouth and slithering it into his own.

They would break away and reconcile in the same darkness, when they did so it was a pattern of pure warmth and cold. Louis hated the feeling of being away from him, he hated how frail Matty was, frail state of him. So Louis frowns and breaks their kiss; _“_ _Happy Birthday_ _.”_ Matty smiles a little but then frowns, sad and blue naturally, just like he always was.

Matty closes his eyes, bunches his eyebrows and Louis leans in to kiss him again. Louis was gonna slip away, that much was true…but Matty couldn’t help but adore what had become of them. 

Louis couldn’t help how his heart raced every time Matty flashed his hazel eyes and would simply bring him close to kiss him again. _Crushed berry breath_. 

“ _I thought I’d see you around but you’re dead now._ ” Matty hisses out in his own deep despondency—and he’s an impending suicide pact waiting to happen anybody could’ve told him that.

Matty’s halo of misery and sorrow glows around him like a black and white picture. 

“ _Matty_ ,” They kiss again in a secret language of tongues “You can’t tell anybody.” Matty nods like the good little conforming puppy he is. “And this can't happen ever again.” 


	4. You're the only one who's making me come (to my sinful senses.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Zayn are gonna be okay. 
> 
> Harry is the underbelly of romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 11/30/20

Louis and Zayn luck out on a lovely sunny day. They're out and about, on some picnic Zayn had organised. Louis didn't really care but Zayn was always one to try to get him to become one with Mother Nature through his aligned chakras or some shit. Louis was tired, blinking slowly and yawning like a worn out little thing. 

Louis looks out over the silver lining of the pastured hills where a heard of cows skipping and playing together moo and pull at grass with their pink wet snouts. Beautiful yellow bees with fat and pollen behinds hurrying to and fro from purple-pink hydrangeas, and the rustle of trees hanging behind them like wide hand held fans. Louis was at a loss for words for the beauty he hadn’t cared to admire. 

The earth was gorgeous and pretty, and stretched before them like a quilt of squared patches of green land. It rose and fell like giant waves on a careless ocean and was littered with the mewls and hungry mouths of baby calves. Louis would live and bask in it forever if he could. 

Like he'd never known peace, he fell onto his red skinned knees and breathed more of the raw fresh air. 

He wanted whatever impeccable sadness to wash through him like a miracle bath here and now. He falls onto his back and exhales the large breath he took in. _Harry would have loved this. Harry would have loved seeing him here again._

Louis counted to three and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Don't you think the sky looks like soup?" Louis closes his eyes for a long time and tries to whistle an ancient lullaby--the universe doesn't answer his beautiful hymn. He turns his freckled nose up to the frothed pink sky and orange clouds. “--Like tomato soup...the ones that come in those cans. _Look, Zee_.” 

"Yeah," Zayn says. He doesn't turn to look at the sky but instead turns to look back at Louis’ pure side profile. He brings his spliff between his plump lips and inhales the amount of smoke you expect from a stoner. 

Zayn had pregamed their picnic with blunts and Cuban cigars, it had Louis fuming with red ears and the scowls to scold him with, but then Zayn held out a tote bag with sushi and champagne, all somber and sad, just like he always was, and Louis had let bygones be bygones. "I could paint you like this," Zayn says like he hadn’t even been listening to Louis thinking out loud.

Louis pinks."Do it." He whispers and plays with the paws of his sweater, sitting up to watch Zayn nod and exhale, just to get up and walk out of his line of sight.

Louis settles there for a while before walking to his standing memorabilia, A big apple tree where he traces his fingers on the bark of the plant, walking in a circle with his fingers on the rind until he reaches an unmitigated stop. There engraved next to a callus was a far-away memory, he gazes at the letters his fingers were following and mopes on his history.

_**H+L** _

Once upon a time Louis had thought that this was what dreams were made of, one could say he's sadly wide awake now.

On this tree Harry swore Louis his hardships, his misery, his beloved-ness, even his worthless life. Louis was stupid to believe him. Because, Louis was sure Harry would've never actually died for him, not when he couldn’t even live for him. 

Louis digs his fingernails into the bark and lets his hand fall. He crunches leaves with his feeta he desolately walks back to the blanket and their vintage radio rolled unto it's side. Louis picks at the grass until he spots Zayn swaggering back to him. “Here I brought the paint.” Letting his materials clatter on the quilt, Zayn hovers over Louis before arranging his set up.

Zayn tells him to lay down on the grass again and Louis obliges as he tends to. He closes his eyes and hums something they listened to in the car. "You could debauch me...right here if you wanted to." Louis thinks out loud. Zayn continues painting but not without the ferocious blush that blooms on his cheeks. 

"No one would hear us." Louis murmurs, eyes glimmering like an old movie. Zayn clears his throat and sits up a little straighter. 

"You are salacious," Zayn breathes. Louis huffs and toys with his tights and crosses his silver boots clumsily. The grass under his back was itchy and wet, it was distasteful in a sort of words but he was still laying on it was he not? Zayn could fuck him just to appease him like Louis was doing with his damn paintings. 

"How much longer?" Louis whines and Zayn doesn't respond just continues to stroke at the canvas.

Louis tsks and curls his fists beside his thigh, pounding at the ground at being dismissed over a damn portrait of himself. "Am I annoying? Answer honestly." Louis asks sweetly but he doesn't get a sound out of Zayn. "Do I make you _angry?"_ Louis teases although his frown wavers when Zayn keeps a serene profile. "Don't you wanna yell at me?" He qualms. Zayn dips the brush into the cup of water instead.

Louis scowls at him and sits up, only to march away and collapse defeatedly under the apple tree of before.

He tears blades of grass and dirt from the earth below him and rages. Looking over his shoulder, Zayn gazes at him with that stupid smolder of fiery compassion but doesn't move to solace his little aficionado. _Fuck this all to hell._

-

A short while later, Zayn crams his equipment in to his car full of junk, fumbling with acrylics and watercolors. He actually has to slam his ass down on the trunk to fasten the lock, it's a haste and half.

When he turns back around Louis is still sitting under the big apple tree, contemplating his decision of divine scarlet letters, it's pathetic but there he is sulking.

Zayn stares at his silhouette from where the sun has already begun to set, before sighing and trekking over to him. Although he understands Louis is hard-headed and stubborn, with just a little tender love and care Zayn thinks he can do justice to Louis’ terrible history of expectations from men.

Zayn settles down next to him and Louis turns his head in the opposite direction, averting his eyes with his nose in the air. "Go away." Louis hisses. _He's an angel when he's mad._

"Do you want me to pick an apple for you?" Zayn asks and tilts his head before reaching out to place a hand on the small of Louis’ back.

Louis shakes his head barely alleviating the pity on himself he doesn't want “You want to head home?" Zayn persists with his questions but Louis ignores him. "Could you please let me know what I've done wrong?" Zagn sighs rubbing his palm into the sweater on his back.

Louis moans and turns toward him, slapping his hand away.

"Why won't you yell at me?" Louis wails lmost teary eyed. "Don't you...don’t you care for me?" Zayn gapes at what he's hearing. _God Louis was ruined. Ruined beyond belief._

"I have to yell at you...so you'll know that I care about you?" Zayn dissects carefully, Louis grunts and flails back down. "That's what you're telling me?" Zayn doesn't sound mad, but Louis does...or is.

"If you _don't_ care just tell me so we don't have to keep wasting each other's time." Louis hisses and sits back up and shoves his finger in Zayn's chest, accusingly. "Don't you know I could show you a world of hurt?" Louis threatens meekly, on the verge of tears. Zayn grins, and Louis puffs out a shaky breath. "Don't laugh at me! Why are you laughing!?"

"Baby, I don't yell at you because I care about you." Zayn coos and grabs Louis' hand to kiss his palm. Louis is left lost for words, still sputtering for an insult, this was a turning point for him. "Don't _you_ know I care about you?" He uses Louis’ words against him and keeps the cheesy grin on his face before he's startled by the arms that flail towards him to bring him into a warm embrace. 

"You mean that?" Louis murmurs into Zayn's corduroy sweater, it makes him smile wide.

"What would I gain from lying?" Zayn inquires and caresses his back. Louis could list a few reasons, instead he lays his head on Zayn’ chest and brings a hand to the hard chest pressed against his cheek. 

"I wanna kiss you so bad." Louis whispers.

"I don't think you do, I smell like weed." Zayn grins. 

"I don't care." Louis giggles like they were school girls sharing secrets. 

"Yeah me neither." Zayn mutters softly.

One last time, He glances at Louis' strawberry mouth before slotting their lips together and moans. Louis' eyes crinkle at the unexpected noises, he combs his fingers through Zayn's hair and kisses at an urgent pace. Louis was vocalising every whim he desired with heavy breaths and panting gasps. Although, When he does catch his breath, he does ardently to continue locking lips with his titular lover.

"I wanna be able to say that I’m yours." Louis releases the kiss and sighs with a heavy heart, his eyelashes fluttering like a pair of brittle butterfly wings.

"Why?" Zayn mutters still receiving from the passionate welcome. He sounds stupid, but not the kind of stupid Louis always expects. 

"’Cause I want you to be mine too." Louis whispers, he doesn't know if he means it or if he ever will. "Please? Don't you want that too?" He purrs and scratches Zayn's scalp with short pink fingernails inviting him to lay his head on his shiny collar bones. 

"Okay." Zayn agrees and caresses his hand. It was sweet as it should've been, but it felt bittersweet too. "We can do that." He says and Louis smiles small, he's dreamt of reassurance for lifetimes...even if it wasn't like this. 

"Really?" Louis eyes shine and he's gone all soft like jello, he'll take what he can get anyway. 

"Anything you want." Zayn reassures and grabs him by the chin to reel him back into their fairytale kiss.

So it goes, they lay back onto the soft green cushion of warm grass and kiss and kiss again. They kiss like a rock that rolls away but comes back to them burning red. 

Zayn and Louis kiss like they’re falling in love, and very rightly so. Laying on his side Zayn has to hold himself up on his elbows for ages just to be able to taste Louis.

“ _Louis_.” Zayn murmurs, and pulls away. Louis doesn’t want to let go anymore, not now not ever, not a million years from now. “I want you to have this.” Zayn slides out a velvet box and Louis’ heart just about races faster than a derby horse.

“No.” Louis gasps. “No not like this! Wait just—let me sit u—” Zayn shushes him and shakes his head with scrunched dark brows.

“It’s a promise ring.” Zayn clarifies but Louis still brushes his hair off his forehead and sits up. 

“If you're gonna be mine I want it to be honest. I want you to be mine wholeheartedly.” Zayn has a hidden look on his face, like there were consequences to this ring. _Oh boy._ Louis doesn’t like restrictions, doesn't do well in following orders. “You need to um,—you need to stop—um— _sleepingwithHarryifIgiveyouthis_.” He clears his throat and blushes, Louis pales. No this was happening, this had to be the most humiliating day of his entire life. 

“I swear darlin’ I never, ever, _ever!_ —” Louis starts but it dies in his throat when Zayn shushes him again and shakes his head.

“You don't have to lie to me Louis, everyone on campus knows. I'm surprised you even tried hiding it from me.” Zayn laughs and Louis turns an ugly shade of red. _Jesus Christ why was this so mortifying?_ Louis’ never been one to care for defamation. 

“Okay.” He breathes “Okay, I swear on my life Zayn.” Louis begs and grabs his hands to place them on his chest, like he was honouring his word. “I’ll never talk to him again, I’ll never even breathe his name on my lips for as long as I live-” Zayn tuts and delicately grabs Louis’ wrists to put them back in his lap.

“I’m not asking that of you Louis.” Zayn says but he wasn’t making this simple on Louis who was way to lost and confused.

“Well—um.” Louis sighs defeated. “Well what _do_ you want?” Zayn smiles and looks toys with the box in between his fingers

“I just want you to be happy.” Zayn pinks and Louis blinks. “ _With me_.”

-

In the gritty part of town; Harry had been silently curling his bottle of beer in his hands; deserted for a couple of hours in the back of gloaming, neon elucidated club. Matty had told him to sit tight while he drove the car back 'round but that was an hour ago.

Harry _had_ sat tight. In fact he sat so tight that from where he was sitting he watched Matty sneak away with a woman of short brown hair and blue eyes. _Matty was terrible at secret affairs._

Anyway he was there, thinking of Louis as he tends to do and at first Harry could only think of all the things that made him mad about Louis then all too accordingly, He gloomed around emotionally, crucifying himself and crying into his hands with the sweat of his complexion shining ever so dimly and all the things he loved about Louis playing on his mind.

Harry was a paradigm; _all that glitters is certainly not gold._

He had called Louis throughout the night. Washing his hands in the sluggish blue bathroom of the bar just for it to go straight to voicemail. That’s when he left the nastiest messages.   
  


_“W-who do you think you are? You think you can leave me, Louis? I wrote about you in my notes app. You're never gonna find anyone like me, sha. No one's ever gonna give you what you need baby, pick up the phone.”  
  
_

_“Louis, fuck! Just pick up the fucking phone are you seriously gonna do this to me? He's not what you want, just stop fucking lying to yourself.”_

_“Fine. Just keep sending me to voicemail it's not like you had my tongue in your ass a week ago right? Not like I fucked you after that hockey game and gave it to you good on your couch, huh? You’re not even gonna phone me back after I held you up against your front door and fucked you so hard you started shaking?” He had chuckled and played with his lighter while holding the phone up to his ear. “You’re a fucking whore.”  
  
_

_“I’m_ _sorry baby. I’m sorry. You know I don’t mean that right? You know that…don’t you? I love you. No one’s gonna take you from me sha. I’m not gonna let him, I’m just a little angry, don’t hate me baby.”  
  
_

When Harry sat back down at the bar he wasn’t expecting the dark haired woman on his left side to even acknowledge him, not even speak to him.   
  


“Hello.” She says. She’s got long black nails and hair to go with it too. 

“Howdy.” Harry slurs, he reckons if he squints hard enough he could see Morticia Adams. 

She doesn’t really engage in any further conversation but keeps a steady eye on him. Harry pulls out his phone and reads the time before heading to his contact list almost immediately. 

"Is that your girlfriend you're calling?" She’s scary…and nosy. 

"Yes." He says, well it's not technically a lie. "Are you in a cult?" Harry asks again, he'd forgotten his boundaries but so had she. 

"No," Witch lady laughs. "I practice medicine." She beams, her black lipstick is gleaming on her pasty white complexion. She was like a ghost. 

Harry snorts. "Oh yeah? Whatdaya’ practice, _voodoo_?" The woman rolls her eyes and raps her long black nails on the bar top, it's like a paced metronome. He can only hope she doesn't hex him. 

"I'm serious." She says it too convincingly. 

"Yeah I am too." But Harry's trying to waver his smile. “You know, serious. _Not_ a voodoo doctor.”

"Maybe you should try leaving a voicemail for your unrequited girlfriend." She smirks. _What a fucking lunatic.  
_

"Maybe you should mind your own fucking biscuits.” Harry smiles back drowsily. He pulls out his phone and rings Louis again with a bouncing knee. 

She notices. "Patience is virtue." Morticia fucking Adams says. It peeves Harry the wrong way so he sticks a middle finger in her pale cakey face and stands up, swaying. He hardly makes it to the sidewalk, because he's clinging to a telephone post for his dear-miserable-sack-of-shit life and dry heaves like something was coming up that really shouldn't be.

The phone trills and beeps. " _Lo-Louis?_ I know you don't wanna talk to me, but baby come on this is ridiculous. You're killing me here, okay? I've no idea what you've been doing and I'm dying to know." Harry rubs his face and hails a cab from just outside the venue, hiccuping. "You broke my heart like ten times worse-er than I did you--" _That's absolutely a word_ , he assures himself as he spreads his gangly limbs into the yellow cab.

”-Um-fuckin' _shit_ , _Highfield Gables_! _Please_ , thank you." Harry grins at him, but it's more like a scowl wen the street lights flash by him like a warning sign of his worst failures. "You hear that, baby? I'm comin' to see you. It's gonna be so romantic. I-It'll make you so happy-" Harry jumps as they hit a speed bump, which in turn makes him belch out loudly. "-I'll take you to see the ballet or fuck I don't know whatever you want baby. We’ll do whatever you want." He closes his eyes and tries to avoid the glaring moonlight shining on the rearview mirror. "I'll pay for the tickets this time 'round sha I got the money." The taxi driver turns on the radio lowly. " _Jesus fucking Christ_ Louis, Don't you see I'm tryin' for you sugar?" He begs through phone with his face all scrunched up; _cab driver be damned._ "I've been trying so damn hard just to show you how much I love you. I've been working extra shifts to take more days off. But all you seem to do is leave me on fucking read. Wait, --fuck--no--I don't mean that, I’m just a little drunk…a little sad too." Harry's been miserable, that much was true. He'd been praying his phone would chirp, with at the very least, a single notification and would wait for hours near his cell without fail, even at work; he was almost laid off for not tending to a client and her broken down shit car, and in return, he got not a single message.

"That'll be twenty-seven dollars sir." The cab driver says and slowly comes to a stop on the dirt track.

" _Merde_ ," Harry says and turns his phone off to end the voicemail. He fumbles and empties his wallet, throwing a bunch of dollar bills to the front seat before tripping out of the car. "Thanks old man." He exclaims and salutes a goodbye.

Harry is barely out of the car when he’s already stumbling and cursing everywhere. He has trouble with the lock on Louis’ big metal fence gate but continues to skip and drunkenly sing when he gets it unfastened. He’s singing a combination of Yankee Doodle and a bunch of of cuss words, he’s not easy on the eyes.

He loves Yankee Doodle. (Being a Yankee and all.) He remembers being a kid on his tee-ball team and always chanting it, back when sports were a hobby and not his whole fucking backbone. 

Harry stares up at the house to see the cream curtains wave out of the glass window that was opened. Harry could give a fuck who was watching him. _"He stuck a feather in his hat—and called it...Macaroni!"_ Harry screams and the lights to the porch switch on. It's a sign. _God was on his side, hallelujah!_ _"-And there we saw the men and boys--"_ Louis hurried out like something out of a movie, glowing and illuminating like an angel. Harry fell to his knees at the silhouette. Louis looked furious and not above forgiveness but still gorgeous anyway. “-- _As thick as hasty puddin'!_ " He wails and Louis crosses his arms, tapping his foot like a disapproving mother. _Louis is a baby though, not a mommy!_ _Pssssh!_ Like it’s a brand new revelation, Harry giggles rat-ass drunk.

When Louis menacingly and slowly walks over to him, Harry can't resist pinching the sheer white robe Louis’ in between his fingers and gapes at him. Louis was a bonafide cherub, so _unlawfully_ pure, a paragon of angels. "For me?" Harry asks, he marvels. "You're too darling." Harry's words are slurred by his heavy tongue, Louis doesn't care.

"Harry." Louis says. Harry lifts the robe and sees Louis' thighs wobble under a pair of frilly white panties, they are prodigious and everything a magazine says they shouldn't be, all thick and jelly-like with consistency. _To hell with magazines._

"You're so gorgeous all the time." Harry mutters and plays with the bows made of silk ribbon stitched onto the elastic part of Louis' sinful undergarments. Harry tugs to see it come undone but he's too distracted by the heart shaped diamond piercing sat on Louis' navel. "You're inside my mind, everyday." He confesses and looks up to watch Louis' eyes glisten like rippling water.

"Harry," Louis begs and grips Harry's beefy biceps to release the hold on himself but Harry doesn't let the white flag deter him, grabbing Louis in a sturdy hold over his waist with his drunken sensitivity instead.

"I miss you." Harry confesses in a whisper; drunk and sitting there like a child; it was anyone's sober nightmare. "Missin' you like crazy." He mutters sliding his hand over the supple, satin skin of Louis' belly.

"Harry," Louis pleas again, desperation clear as day in his voice, but Harry doesn't wanna hear it. He shakes his head and clings to the bottom of Louis' legs.

"I love you so fucking much," Harry says, it makes Louis cover his face with his hands, shaky breaths exhaling into white ice air. "I want us to be together again." Harry looks up on his knees and practically prays to him like a goddess and her ever knowing righteousness. "I want to be with you. I fucked up—I know that now." He swallows his hiccups and tries not to belch…or cry; whichever comes first. "—but I'm only human sugar." He pleas and begs again with his big green eyes. It isn't enough.

"Harry I—" Louis cringes and tries not to let his face waver between a genuine smile and heartbreak. "Me and Zayn—." Harry's face falls, because; _No._ it wasn't supposed to be like this. He looks at Louis hand who tries to turn it away but Harry’s faster, he grabs him in a vice like grip and catches sight of the attractive gleaming ring then lets go like he’s been burnt. _This did burn._ "He's my man, dumplin'." Louis whispers and Harry's equilibrium is seemingly failing him, but Louis reaches down to hold Harry’s swaying head, tutting and closing his eyes, Harry feels small. Harry feels _stupid_.

Harry's grimaces and goes green. "You're promised to him?— _fuck_. I'm gonna be sick." Harry dry heaves and cover his mouth, it's only a belch. Louis scoffs and scrunches his nose, shaking his head ashamed of Harry's behaviour. Harry scowls. "What? You want me to say _congratulations_? Want me to give him a high fucking five for fucking you so good you've decided to settle down like the homely little thing you ar—" He should've seen it coming, the usually supple skin of Louis' palm coming down on his face with a crack and a sting, his head startles to the side like whiplash.

"You don't get to come here and pitch a hissy fit." Louis once soft-spoken voice is hissing with venom, it's scary, well the circumstance is. "—You don't get to giddy up and get mighty big for your britches, when _you_ haven't seen a single sober day in your miserable fucking life since I left you!" Louis spits out, "You've been a long' time gone to come back to me now." Harry's eyes water and his lip wobbles, this wasn't fair.

" _It's. not. fair._ " Harry sobs. "Do I ever get to make a mistake?! One fucking mistake Louis! I did one thing wrong now this whole fucking town is crucifying me for the rest of my life! Well, what about me?! What the hell am I without you?!" He points at himself, saliva dribbling down to his chin. _Mess_ , he was a mess. A mess Louis couldn't feel sorry for anymore. "What am I without you!" Harry roars while tears stream down his face. Louis' mug is of displeasure.

"You've been so clearly better off that's what you are." Louis shoves him back into a puddle of mud, wet from his sprinklers. Harry's body splatters but he doesn't try to uncurl himself from his pathetic form he taken.

In his fetal positio, Harry embraces himself "It's a lie what they say you know." Louis mumbles bending down to his level. "Absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder, whoever said that was a _damn_ fool. I _know_ I hate you." Louis hisses and tries to make Harry stand up. "I _hate_ you, now leave."

Harry shakes his head and sobs on the ground. Clenching the dirt and grass that's gone mushy; now sliding between his knuckles. "I don't know where to go." He mutters and Louis sighs sliding his hand down Harry's face to play with his plump bottom lip. "I don't know anything."

"Go home Harry." Louis sighs and steps back to walk away but Harry grabs his ankle, quick as lightening with mud under his fingernails. "Go to bed and forget you came her-"

"I'll tell him." Harry declares frantically, but he's drunk and his threats don't mean anything, it doesn't stop Louis' gears from grinding. "I'm gonna tell him I had you six ways to Sunday—"

"You're an expert liar Harry. A real manipulator, I applaud you." Louis icily says and kicks kicks his foot out, this time Harry lets go. "God bless your heart. I swear if you had an idea it already died of loneliness. —Zayn and I were never officially together but thanks for being so concerned about everyone who's fucking me you forgot you're not one of them." Louis spits and truly walks away, well a healthy distance. Harry lets him, he doesn't care anyway.

"Yeah—that's probably a lot of people to keep track of, in my defence. —You are the town tart after all." Harry accentuates and smacks his mouth, he says it nonchalantly too, as nonchalant as it gets when you’ve got tears streaming down your face. Harry looks away with a sort of smugness to his mug, Louis thinks his sobriety couldn't come an slower, he turns around and swings his arm back to slap him again. " _Bordel de merde!_ " Harry cries out and ends up on the ground again.

"Go away Harry." Louis says soft-spoken like he tends to but Harry still gets the heebie-jeebies with his undertone. Louis' robe billows behind him as he walks away. Harry _will_ leave, but after he's watched Louis walk away, he’s earned at that, at the very least. "I mean it." He warns but Harry doesn't want to let go.

"I'm gonna make you come to your senses Louis!" Harry screams with his hands cupped around his mouth. Louis sticks a middle finger up. Letting his shiny new ring gitter and gleam before disappearing behind the slam of his front door. "Fuck." He says and rubs his stinging cheek.

Harry tries to stand up again only to wobbl back down and look up at Louis' bedroom, once upon a time he would’ve been that singular shadow not beside, but within Louis.

-

After his classes, Louis was messing around, and messing around _bad_. After Matty picked him up from school, everyone but Harry was piled into his stinky van. (Pee-yew) Matty had to detour to a drive-thru because Louis complained about a milkshake and a greasy burger for dinner and everyone knows that when Louis tells you to jump you ask him how high.

—But it was fine, now he was content with his head in Zayn's lap while Envy was slouched on Zayn's shoulder taking selfies with each other. They were so cool.

After a bunch of crisscut fries, a greasy burger and a thick malt shake later, everyone bursts out of the van like confetti and meanders down to Matty's grungy-gamey basement. Louis loafed around with Envy who was supposed to be on keyboard and watched Matty and Zayn set up the sound system that only took like a _gazillion_ hours for the _millions_ of guitar pedals Matty insisted on having for their setlist. Louis shit on him because of it. It was funny because Matty has always been this insistent.

"You don't need that much distortion on your guitar." Louis reprimanded and threw a piece of gum wrapper to Matty's head that got caught up in a curl. Matty's hair was always the coolest. Matty scowls playfully and throws it back at him, Louis blushes. 

They’ve not acknowledged the kiss since it happened and Louis had tried not to let it affect the way his day-to-day life was operated… but he couldn’t help the little eagerness he’d get every time Matty fooled around with him! He hadn’t had a proper school-girl crush in ages, it was thrilling. 

"Lay off kitty." Matty baits with his little unoriginal nickname for Louis, he growls in retaliation. Matty coos at him and Louis pouts. He wasn't a child.   


~ 

While the band waited around for Harry, Louis was growing increasingly bored. So he twirls around the basement and dances up the stairs. On the main floor, He gets an idea. 

At first he was going to go into Matty's bed to take a nap and rub his scent in _really real_ revenge ( _Mwuahaha_ ) but decided Matty would like it too much so he hastily decides to rummage through Matty's disgusting pigsty of a kitchen for some blow or a beer instead.

He only starts to head downstairs after he had shotgunned nine beers and ate half of an edible that was wrapped in Saran Wrap tucked far away in a kitchen cupboard. It was shit.

~

Okay, the edible _wasn't_ that shit, Louis had hazily come to know that, moving in slow motion it seemed. He looked around trying to find the stairs again and instead; heard the squeal of red hot tires, he rolled his eyes, because of course, Harry was still running late.

Louis watched Harry’s car hit Zayn and Matty’s mailbox before he walked down the stairs of the basement still trying to rub the chocolate off of his gums. "You guys should kick Haribo out of the band and hire me as your full-time groupie." He suggested with a sigh, plopping on the couch. Zayn laughs, Envy immediately snaps up from the couch and starts taking her butterfly clips out of her hair and in through Louis'. Matty answers with a thumbs up while playing around with the knobs of his _stupid_ , _unnecessarily_ , humongous amp Louis wanted to watch him nosedive.

"Put up or shuddup." Matty groans with his hair all flopped in front of his eyes trying to find some wire control in the chaos that was his stupid setup. Louis wanted to hit him with an 'I told you so' but kept quiet instead, the green friendly cosmic-opening brownie influencing his mal intuitions.

"I'm serious! I'll blow the both of you so, so, so good! My blow jobs are great." Louis whines and walks over to them, stomping in his little ballerina flats.

"I bet they are kitty." Matty coos and Louis growls too much like an actual kitten. "—You know what? I'd like to hold you to your word. It seems like a reasonable transaction we could make. My dick in your mouth? I'm you're huckleberry." Matty says and leans in, Louis giggles and shoves his face when he tries to kiss both his cheeks. Louis promised himself, gah! Phooey! 

"Slow down partner, I didn't tell you how much I cost." Louis titters again and bites the tip of his pointer finger provocatively. Matty groans.

"Now say it slower." Matty purrs and Envy gags on the stained couch. She always thought Louis was far too out of Matty's league, or anyone in this band for that matter.

"You guys should just get married already, it's disgusting." Envy proposed, and Matty nods keenly.

"Zayn’s my beau, and Matty's like a brother to me." Louis smirks and watches Matty put a hand over his chest and mouth an 'ouch'. Louis rubs his hands over his eyes to mock his faux crying. 

Zayn just smiles and plugs the amps into the power sockets. Louis, ready to further explain the details of their beautiful partnership, is sidetracked by the loud thumping footsteps up the wooden hill. 

It's Harry and his flavor of the week! They both walk in like a dime piece. Unfortunately, Louis was the whole dang dollar, _psssh_. Louis recognizes her though, she worked at that one fro-yo truck he and Zayn were at a month ago. Harry was really laying down the law with his debutantes and it stung, _not_.

Louis skimps on his aggressiveness towards Harry and instead lays his head down on Envy's lap and lets her continue the onward meticulous hair-styling.

Harry frowns petulantly at his white flag and bimbo sandwich tries to find a spot somewhere in the room. And because she's been so warmly greeted by everybody she decides the best place for her revolting stench of desperation is next to Envy and Louis on Matty's big pink couch. Louis giggles quietly, this is so cool of Harry! He's finally found someone just as stupid to appear smarter, that's actually like in a way itself, pretty dang smart! Louis titters again which in turn makes Harry clench his jaw. Bless his soul.

"Guys this is um—" Harry wavers and that makes Louis scoff. "Joanna this is —Joanna, yeah." Harry was so stupid with names. "Joanna, my band." Harry introduces her and pats his skintight jeans quickly moving towards Matty's make-do stage. Envy looks back at Louis who shakes his head like he already knows what she's thinking, Envy could be so cold and bitter, Louis knows. Louis watches Envy smile at the maiden lady but her lips come together more like a leather bag with all its wrinkles instead, Louis agrees internally and scrunches his nose with distaste. Did Harry find her at the fro-yo truck too?

"Hi, uh—question!" Envy holds her pointer finger up towards Harry who nods and catches Louis' careful gaze. He flushes a pomegranate pink and looks away, obviously not before darting his eyes back a couple of times trying to catch Louis' outfit through the corner of his eyes. Louis spreads his legs from where the were crossed and flashes his panties and thighs from beneath his tutu. Harry swallows and Louis smirks, bringing his middle finger to his mouth to suck on his middle finger. He reckons Harry's just about on the brink of an aneurysm. The drool from Louis tongue dribbles down his hand and his rubescent lip-shine comes undone, and forms just like a ring around his finger. Harry glares at Louis' dark blue manicure and sucks on his teeth. Something like a flash of anger sets through his eyes like thunder and Louis wants to laugh. _Hahaha_! It's Mighty rich for him to be so temperamental considering the state of them. What a fucking joke.

"—Why is _she_ here?" Envy finishes asking and Louis chuckles, Joanna looks expectantly at Harry like a kicked puppy. That's so sweet, Harry's put up that type impression and she's fallen for it. _Ga-Ga-Gooey, she’s gone._

"Play nice Envy." Harry warns and plucks his strings to tune his bass, Louis licks his gums and rolls his eyes. Of course he would say something like that, there's nothing sexier than a frat boy snapping at everyone to make-do with the way he treats them. Again, sarcasm.

" _Roof roof._ " Envy mockingly barks all nonchalant, going back to twist at Louis' hair and holds it in girly little clips. Louis was surely glistening in her opinion. Even with his pink little leotard.

"Can you guys play one of my songs." Louis interrupts with puppy eyes. Everyone groans and cusses at him, Joanna just slums there like the fucking cow that she was. "Pretty please! I'm not above begging!" Louis cries out. Matty curses and throws his pick to the ground just to catch it in his hand again. Color Louis _much_ impressed.

"Sadly we've come to know that by now. Envy keyboard please." Matty mutters and takes his superman shirt off and throws at Louis, who cringes and takes it between his fingers and not so nonchalantly whips it Harry's groupie. Envy laughs uproariously into his shoulder and stands up to take her place next to them on her keyboard, it makes him pout terribly. He wants to be part of the band too.   
  


_"At the best of times…I’m lonely in my mind."_

Everyone scrambled to keep up with the drums but Louis been trying to keep up with Harry's doxy. He's been on a very unusual psychedelic trip, cosmic brownies and all. But he could always tell that Harry could tell when he was mildly upset. She was perfectly perfect, and he was so fucked up and high.

"Hey! Wait! I haven't heard this song." Louis realises and tucks his bunny slippers under his fatty thighs. Matty always wrote the best songs for him. Harry was too stupid for penmanship and claimed he never wrote songs for anyone. Harry looked like he could write ten million fucking songs about licking Joanna though, the way he was staring at her had Louis’ blood boiling.

"Me neither." Envy swipes at Matty who in turn pokes her in the boob right over the nipple. She tries slapping Matty but he turns away from her and whispers a sing-song. The cigarette once tucked behind his ear, now hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

 _“But I can find something to show you.”_ Matty points to himself then to Louis who can’t look away from the brunette girl sat next to him. He wonders if she’s already fucked Harry. He’s gonna fucking kill them both. _“If you’ve got the time, why would I rely on the things that I did right?”_

Harry was watching Louis steadily now, ever since last night all he could think about was the dastardly ring on his left hand. That should of fucking been him. That should’ve been him at that fucking meadow watching his freckled cheeks bloom and kissing his button fucking nose. Harry purses his lips and plucks his bass, well, what good did waiting fucking do for him?

_“She said ‘I gave you four years of my life!’.”_

Louis glares at Harry and curls in on himself. Relating too much, Louis realises, he gave Harry all the fucking years of his pathetic life and all Harry did was sleep around and look at other people. Harry was a piece of shit Louis didn’t want to be around anymore.   


_“So what about these feelings I've got? We_ _got it wrong and you said, you had enough.”_ _  
  
  
_

Louis stands up and walks away. He walks away all the way up to the second floor bathroom, stiff with emotion and bleary eyes. When he delicately snicks the door closed he breaks down on the tiled floor as tears stream down his face. He doesn’t make a sound but instead scrunches up his face holding in his breath for what feels like decades. There was no walking away from a promise now.

He gasps and splutters still holding his hands over his eyes. He tries to collect his tears on his finger tips but they get so slippery they slide off his face when he tries wiping them away.

He can still hear the music and symbols playing from a distance and that only makes him gnaw on his lip to keep even more quiet. This couldn’t be more comical for him. 

  
_“I couldn’t be more in love.”_

  
  


~

The band drops dead exhausted but Louis missed their entire set, sitting on the toilet until he could hear the amp shut off and then walked back downstairs like a cipher, like nothing had ever happened. But now he was high on three straight lines he had blown off the rim of the bathtub.

"Should we go clubbing?" Matty proposes and Envy snorts.

"Have you not yet been barred from every single place in town?" She asks and Matty doesn't actually have an answer to that. "Please tell me and don't hold out, I'm dying to know." Envy's back to tinkering around with Louis' hair as he sat there airily and blank.

"Erm, I'm not quite sure." Matty scratches the shaved side of his head. Louis wants to rub his cheek on it and purr. "We could go to a few new places, that sound good?" Everyone agrees but Louis just leans over to dig his dainty fingernails on Matty's stubbly head and scratch at his scalp tenderly, giggling like a child with a shiny new toy. Matty smiles and moves his head closer to Louis, swivelling his body to hunch near his level. He wasn't gonna miss out on cuddly Louis the once in a coked up lifetime he could get him.

Harry watches them and scowls at Louis' hands. Zayn just smiles and folds his hands together. That, Louis does notice. It earns him a kiss Louis blows with his hand. Harry glares towards Zayn. Was he fucking serious? Harry strokes his jaw and further glares at him. Zayn was such a _pussy_ , letting Louis feel up on other guys? What a fucking cuck.

Envy discreetly watches Harry and smirks. _Such a fucking lunatic._ "So Harry and Jolene, eh?” She scoffs and picks her nails once she’s done with Louis hair, and relaxes back on the couch, Harry glares at her shaking his head. Louis nods his head though, encouraging her.

“My name’s Joanna.” Joanna says but Envy could give a fuck what her name was. Joanna was a stage prop. A fucking fleshlight for Harry’s deepest darkest desires.

“Jolene, _Jolene_.” Envy sings and Louis raises his eyebrow at Harry, all he does isclench his jaw and puts his arm around her bony little shoulders. Louis looks away from the couch opposite of them and Zayn’s face grimaces at that.

No way was he going to let Harry get away with hurting Louis again. _Not ever again._

“Babe, you wanna get going?” Zayn says and stands up. He wasn’t a fan of PDA but Harry was cruising for an emotional bruising and he would quite literally kill to see Louis’ dark blue eyes shine and glisten at Zayn’s chivalry.

“Yeah.” Louis places his hand in Zayn’s but Harry quickly stands up to stop them. _They weren’t going to fuck off to fucking fuck._

“We were just getting settled, no need to get going! Right guys?” Harry desperately tries to get the room to agree with him but Matty shrugs and Envy flashes her silver eyes at him, Joanna slumming. “Well I’m sure they agree—”

“Oh, what? _Nooo_ , you guys get to it now, wouldn’t want to— _you knooow,_ stall you here.” Envy‘s honeyed breathy voice contradicts Harry’s and she quickly returns to her nasty aloof stare.

“Me’n’you are gonna mix.” Harry growls and steps towards Envy’s dignified bearing, clenching his fists all night and proud but Louis steps in front of him and side-tracks him. Not on his fucking watch.

“You’re not gonna touch her.” Louis says calmly and coolly. Everyone wavers, it’s in their faces. Harry’s mug is a whole other story of bitterness and anger. “I’m gonna walk out that door and your not gonna lay a finger on her.”

“Fine.” Harry says petulantly. “Leave.” He bristles and cracks his knuckles, Louis doesn’t know what to do with him anymore. “I’m gonna send you a bunch of pictures of my cock deep in pussy because I could give a shit if you two leave anyway.” Louis scrunches his eyebrows and puts a finger on his chin. He hates that the hit only lasts three minutes. He could probably do this better if he was high.

“Great! Then by all means please do _sugar_ , we could do with seeing your Crayola dick on my timeline, right?” Louis smiles then frowns, grabbing Zayn’s bicep to lead them both out of Harry and Matty’s crack den. But they don’t get to leave because suddenly Harry’s pulled Zayn by the back of his sleeveless band shirt.

It’s like slow motion again, seeing the way Harry pummels his fists into Zayn’s face, not letting up even when Envy and Matty try pulling him away. Harry was a lunatic, so fucking out of his mind, for not giving up on his fast paced bloody knuckle beating. Harry was beating on Zayn’s face and all anybody could see was the way his head bobbed each time it hit the ground, Louis thought about Zayn’s beautiful face covered in cuts and bruises, all black and blue like one of his paintings. Louis starts screeching.

“You fucking asshole!” Louis squeals and finally tears him away to beat at his chest. “You don’t get to hit him!” He screams punching him and slapping at his pectorals but Harry doesn’t falter. Even when Envy and Matty pull Zayn up from under his armpits, Harry’s still trying to get his nasty hits in.

Louis watches Envy place her pale cold fingers on Zayn’s face and gasps when he groans. “You’re a monster.” Envy hisses out from where she’s kneeled down on the floor, Harry just blinks back and shrugs trying to dispel the eyes of him. It obviously doesn’t work because everyone still looking at him like he’s completely lost his mind.

“You’re a fucking joke Harry.” Louis spits out and tries to pat Zayn’s face awake but Harry steps casually towards him, like he didn’t just knock a man in cold blood, like he didn’t just ruin any chance of them.

“Then that makes you the punchline right?” Harry kneels down and smiles, it’s taunting the both of them. “You wouldn’t know a joke if it kissed you at night and fucked you pregnant.” Harry says bitterly and stands up to get out, Joanna trailing behind him, following like a good trained bitch.

“Zayn?” Louis whispers and tries his hardest to not let Harry get the best of him. He was trying so hard to not let his blood boil. “I’m sorry, please get up, I’m real sorry sugar I didn’t mean for him to do that—”

“Louis.” Zayn coughs and wipes his fingers under his bloody nose. “I’m fine—are you okay?” Louis looks at him like he’s insane.

“Zayn no offence but you just got beat by our schools star hockey player and I know the only exercise you do is with paint cans. I don’t need to be okay when you look like this darlin’.” Louis says sympathetically and prods at his ribs. Zayn groans and twitches away.

“Didn’t even hurt.” Zayn smiles when Louis throws his head back to laugh at his stupidity.

“Let’s get you home.” Louis whispers and helps him up having to heave up a body taller than his was never worthwhile.

“Wait so we’re not going clubbing?” Matty screams as Louis and Zayn walk carefully up the steps. Zayn limping on his left foot not at all over exaggerating his injuries but when he tries to laugh all he gets is choked up with his tight ribs.

“Matty Healy you’re the salt of the earth!” Louis screams and laughs for him.

When Louis spends about five minutes getting Zayn settled in the passengers seat and starts driving them back in his little gray car, he begins wondering.

“Why didn’t you hit him back?” Louis finally bursts three minutes into the drive back and Zayn tenderly smiles, well the most he can with a bruised face. “I mean, you could’ve, if you tried hard enough at least.”

“I didn’t want to upset you.” Zayn says quietly and Louis shares his soft red smile. “I never want to upset you.” 


	5. I wasn’t told you’d be this cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii I think that took kind of long in my opinion. sort of kind of…but honestly I just hope u like this chapter I didn’t rlly try my best but decided to publish anyway ϵ( 'Θ' )϶ enjoy lub u also ignore the grammar errors ok bye

Sometimes Louis would usually skip the RiteAid all together but when desperate measures occur...

-

"Ring 'er up." He perks with the pearliest smile he can muster up. Well, it just so happens that the gas station lady is _so_ not happy to see him.

He gets it...kinda...Harry'd usually try to sneak a few swanky bottles for him if he’d forgotten his wallet when midnight was over yonder or some shitty menthol flavored cigarettes for his pre-game wake up call.

Turning the small package in his manicured palm then slamming it on the counter, Louis remembers how tarnishing and really _cruel_ Harry's reputation was. It's not like he ever had the squeakiest record anyway but it was still pretty petty of her. 

" _Pretty pleaseee,_ with jimmies on top." Louis' whines and pouts. His eyelashes didn’t usually bat a mile a minute but she was a very hard woman to please today. She was giving him such a tough time.

Finally, Delilah, the grump, grabs the pharmaceutical and wavers, turning it around a couple of times.

"Seriously?" She drawls out in that southern accent.

Louis clears his throat and grins like a possum smacking on a sweet potato. He wasn't proud of himself— _no_ , but there was no way he was going around town sauntering into different pharmacies and letting everybody in on his biscuits.   
_Nope, no way._

"You should really start buying yourself some condoms sweet-pea." She drones out, even deadpans. It’s condescending, the tone in her voice. 

_Condoms? What are -oh right!_ Louis totally would but...it's just no fun when you have to keep ripping them open during transition into foreplay, even a little embarrassing at the worst of times.

"Ummm...they're extremely bad for the environment. Y'know..." Louis chuckles bashfully, cheeks cherry pure and crimson red. God, this was a bruise to his huge-ginormous ego. "Save the otters and all that jazz. " He cheeses and sighs when Delilah doesn't cave. "We all gotta do our part, right?" Louis is a garbage person, he admits it but at least it makes her hums disinterestedly, shaking a plastic bag open that reads ' **THANK YOU** ' a bunch of times in bright bold red letters and ignores him. 

_This was unbelievable!_

"Oh shucks, plastic bag?" Louis pouts and shrugs, still retrieving his items off the counter. You win some, you lose some. "I'll take one for the team." he tsks. 

"You know you could always bring in your own bag." She sauces back. _Ouch._ She was definitely right...Louis does have a really cute French market bag he uses for groceries but that was too much trouble for a teeny tiny box of birth control.

"Oh phooey! You're absolutely right! My boyfriend says the same thing to me the other day—the thing with the bags and _whatnot_." He motions with his hand and the other on his hip. "I tell him I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached to my neck" Louis quips and throws a cute little smile, it falters when she doesn't look anywhere near pleased. _Dang diggity Dang._ "Okay...well it was nice seeing you for my monthly dose of babe repellent, but I need to get home to my beau so um..."

Going, in his pink frilly tutu, he spins around, a cunning smirk reappears in place of his typical cute little smile like it so usually does with levels of mischief like this.

"See you next month!" He shouts and squeals when he almost trips on air walking backwards.

  
-

When Harry's drunk and angry it doesn't do anyone any good. When there's steam coming out of his ears like he's some raging bull digging his heels towards a matador— well that was just no good either.

Matty was no matador.

"Quit your pacing." Matty mumbles, he's been rolling the same backwood for a while now, he’s gone and fucked. It's been the same process for as long as Harry’s known him; take the 'bacco out, pack the weed and lick the paper back together... _blah, blah, blah—fucking blah._

Harry was gonna tear his hair out.

"He's not gonna talk to you when you're like this y'know..." Matty adds halfheartedly, licking at the tobacco paper like it was in his damn genetics.

"Shut the _fuck_ up." Harry bites out pulling or—yanking his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. "You said he'd come to the band meeting today." Harry steadies. "Well? You said he'd be here. Come on Matty. Where is he? You said he'd be here, he's not here." Harry sounds like a scary parrot to Matty, blazing _(hahaha...)_ on about boys who don't love him.

To Matty, Harry had all the same mannerisms of an addict waiting for his next hit and high, too bad his only vice had a warrant out for commitment to another man and Harry wanted to be the only one indicted.

"Yeah, he said he'd be here so that's what's gonna go down. Chill out, yeah?" Matty drones and sniffs a bit of blood out of his right nostril. "Fucking hell, Get me a tissue?" Instead, Harry rips a Kleenex out of a cardboard box and throws it in his face. "Fuck I think I took one too many lines." Harry glares at him and is almost ready to spit on him but decides he doesn't really want to start a fight this time around. 

"You're so pathetic." Harry grits instead.

"Oh yeah?" Matty's reels back to exhale a puff of smoke in Harry's face and rests his _super_ aching back on the couch. "If I'm pathetic what does that make you?" He taunts and relaxes his face a bit after another hit, Harry scowls.

"I hate British people y'know? I fucking hate all of you." Harry mumbles. This time Matty snorts.

Harry hates everybody equally so there was no fucking bite to his bark.

"Get over yourself." Matty says but there's no malice to it. He could care less what Harry claimed to like, love or hate, it wasn’t like Harry fucked it any less. 

"I'll get over myself when I dig my hands up your inbred british ass and pull out all your fucking intestines you goddamn coke-head.” Harry grits. “You're the reason Louis can't go a day without a damn fi—" There's a soft disruption that thuds down the stairs that pulls them apart and into uncomfortable silence instead. 

Harry shoves Matty back into his sunken seat on the couch and glares at him.

Matty puffs out another gust of smoke and leaves it alone, it’s all he can do anyway. 

Said disruption happens to be two shiny polished Mary-Janes and high ruffled stockings pushing the meat of his thighs into delicate perfection, mmm. 

Harry's dick twitches in his tight black jeans, it makes for a hard time. 

_No pun intended._

Harry's become all too familiar with this type of feeling knocking on his chest too, After all this time he's watched Louis take the brevity of his mind, and fill it to the brim with soft noise and sweet sounds, he still could never stop that shortness of breath he'd get whenever Louis was in a vicinity of his tailored world.

He'd never forget that Louis' feet were always bruised after dance, bruised or red with sensitivity, _either or_. It didn't matter because Harry wasn't gonna stand by and let his damsel in distress fall any longer. Harry was his knight in shining...band tees? Hockey gear? Polo shirts?

Harry was drooling. Louis was so sexy and ridden with lust in all the right ways, never failing to get him on his toes and inevitably pulling people towards himself like a magnet. 

He wondered where Louis had been all his life.

Harry wanted to take him away and escape to an enchanted castle, fan him with palm leaves and feed him grapes, bathe him in milk and treat him to exotic culinary, something a he deserved. 

None of any of that mattered anymore, It wasn't like he could sweep Louis' off his novelty shoes like he wanted to. Not when Louis' was intertwining his vivacity with the shitty aura of his California surfer chic-Beatnik-trash-bottom-feeder-loser boyfriend.

God it made Harry sick to his stomach, watching him with a man who wasn't man enough would make anybody sick to their stomachs. 

However, more importantly, Harry had been hoping and wishing to massage Louis' little feet on Matty's stinky couch all day, poor little thing probably had pain running up and down his gams, just, aching to be soothed.

 _"I'm hereee!"_ Louis squeals tossing his tiny pink backpack on the floor and launches himself at Matty to greet him in a great big bear hug. Harry wants to brand him like a cow, hot and scathing torch straight on his ass. Matty got hugs and in return Harry got jackshit. "Geez Louise! You're not gonna believe the day I ha-"

"Hey." Harry interrupts from the threshold fist clenching and temperamental jealousy just—burning. He salutes, His hands then are jammed into his jeans all bent and crooked, shoulders trembling with anxiety and anger.

Louis turns to watch Harry under his wispy, curly lashes, studying the way he studied him right back. Watching the way he just addressed him after days of no voicemails, no emails, no calls, no texts, no hush-hush rendezvous, no fucking apology for trying to turn his boyfriend into roadkill.

Louis' eyebrows twitch and his strawberry mouth presses together in disdain. Man, was he so pretty. 

His look was one of confusion, wondering. 

Harry wanted to know if he was wondering about his well-being, if Louis still cared about what kind of breakfast he had. Big? Small? Louis always kept Harry fed whether he was angry or not, it never mattered, up until now.  Harry reckoned Louis was too busy feeding that Nancy boyfriend of his. 

Long ago, Gourmet dishes, artisanal goods, breakfast in bed, pie made from scratch, etc...Louis was like the one thing that had never been like any other thing. He wasn't a constant, much less a nuisance. He played a part in Harry's healthiest habits, feeding him 'till he was as full as a tick. It was just one thing Louis taught Harry about love, The other was probably mind-blowingly amazing sex, and then the list goes on.

Now, without the pride he once held, Louis had no way of masking his own insecurities, looking like he was stranded in the middle of the empty room searching for an empty seat away from his demons that all looked too much like Harry.

"Hi..." Louis mouses a greeting in a sotto-voce voice. "...I'm gonna be over here." He whispers to no one in particular and carries his backpack in his cocooned arms hugging it and his tiny pink winter cape like a safety blanket under his arms.

Whenever he was scared, Harry remembered when they were still stupid kids in high school, and they would run around the house in big knitted blankets and turn on all the lights so that all the freight and hastiness of the world would leave in the shadows of illuminated inanimate objects.

Sometimes and not always, Harry would pretend to be a noble knight who'd come to the aid of his royal highness after slaying dragons and thieves, even taking a knee, awaiting his official decreed knighting from his beautiful princess in delicate silk gowns who'd bow and curtsy to his will.

He can't even look Harry in his green metal eyes.

_'Cause When it was sweet it went something like this._   
  


**before**

"I hereby dub thee Sir. Styles; knight of my soul and king of my heart!" They both giggle loudly and sort of balance on both feet but it ceases when Harry's dark hair and pale face frame him so perfectly, it's when Louis can't quite remember what they were on about when he realized. "Crowned so dearly...my beloved." Louis whispers in concentration but it was hushed and it was late.

Louis had been very set on knighting Harry who was engulfed in blanket-robes and pajama-armor. He had swung the sword back and delicately tapped each of Harry's broad strong shoulders, watching him in blue lust gazes and stolen stares, long before Harry knew what Louis felt for him.

"My liege." Harry acknowledges with mint breath and a silly smirk. "You are as radiant as the sun above, with a smile that lights up this chamber like it were midsummer's day, and we've only just met but I ask thee to please take my hand in marriage, won't you make me the happiest knight on earth?" Louis' heart stuttered that night, believing Harry was indirectly professing his love.

"Yes," Louis swallowed, eyes twinkling. Harry cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow wary by his love struck eyes, the look on Louis' face was unlike anything he'd seen before.

"We're still playing right?" Harry awkwardly breaks the suffocating air of aromatic love and Louis' heart moans like a failed siren.

Louis should've known that Harry was a commitment fraud. Never tied down to single person, different bed every night and different people everyday. He should've known.

"Yeah." Louis whispered and let the faux sword fall to his feet. Harry sighed and nodded untying the heavy blanket from his neck. Louis slept in a different room that night.   
  


-

Harry's face falls and he bristles in place, clenching his fists. There's no way this was happening. Louis knows ignoring Harry; has and always will be, completely off the table, they agreed. They fucking agreed that Harry would never be put in another damn corner ever again for as long as they lived.

"Don't be so frigid." Matty complains and sits back up to open another packet of Russian cream cigars, temporarily breaking the short lived silence. His lungs were probably killing him and the bits and pieces he had leftover of brain were having a field day. "You should be jumping with glee." Matty mutters at Louis, emptying the 'bacco out. Louis doesn't even try to turn to look at Matty in order to not accidentally meet rabid jewel eyes.

Man was Harry so burnt out, so completely devoid of commitment to this little game.

"Why's that?" Louis answers, his face red and blotched with shame turned to side like the slap of Harry's eyes had just shocked him. _That's the way it should fucking look. Fuck him_ Harry thought _._

"Well, I got us a gig at the House of Blues down in the French Quarter...if they like our set we could get into the B.O.T.B's." Matty shrugs and Louis' eyes go star struck. Literally two tiny stars for pupils. Harry had never seen him like that, he scoffs. "No biggie." Matty brushes off but Louis' already bouncing off the couch and under his arm.

"You're lying!" Louis exclaims, suavely plucking the cigar out of his hands to flick it over the coffee table, Matty gapes and blubbers motioning with his hands. Louis, completely forgetting about the awkward pregnant pauses he was leaving before. "Tell me all about it!" Louis screams and Harry scoffs crossing his arms and leaning into the doorframe.

"He's bluffin'." Harry snides from his rigid spot. "He probably went and booked us a gig at a café bar in Baton Rogue just like he always does. Ain't that right _Ratty?"_ Louis side eyes Harry and frowns, then immediately goes back to his dazed gaze on the shaved heads' paraphernalia. _Fuck him double then._

"Don't call him Ratty." Louis meekly says. Harry ignores him, and Matty's lips sort of quirk.

"Yeah don't call me Ratty, _Haribo_. It's the truth too so shut the fuck up." Matty declares seriously. "Kieran from the venue said a band dropped out and he was like _'Do you know anyone in a band?'_ and I was like _'I'm in a band.'_ And he was like _'You're in a band?'_ And I was like ' _Yeah, I'm totally in a band.'_ And the rest as they say is history." Matty says all proud of himself with a smug little look playing on his face. Harry rolls his eyes and watches Louis still in a bubbly-like trance.

Matty was the saddest most pathetic person Harry knew. _Why,_ Louis was so hung up on him; He had fuck all idea.

"Matty!" Louis squeaks watery. "You're taking me to the B.O.T.B's." He shoves his arms under Matty's armpits and squeezes him in a tight hug. "You're my kindred spirit." Louis whispers, it's makes Matty blush but Harry bites out a bitter chuckle and scoffs again.

"What now?" Matty sighs letting Louis go after a tender rub on his bicep. Harry never did like Matty in a room alone with Louis.

"No, _yeah_ , no." Harry sniffs and steps a heavy foot forward. "I just think it's funny..." Harry drags. "That once upon a time we were 'twin flames' he and I and now the two of you..." Harry laughs bitterly and covers his hand with his mouth to conceal it. "The two of you 'kindred spirits' also happen to be the biggest coke heads." Harry barks out a laugh and Louis stills. "Isn't that just something." Louis' eyes droop, Matty's harden at that.

"I reckon I could take you real easy." Matty menaces.

"Oh yeah? Balls deep?" Harry wolf whistles and gives him a smug look.

"Fuck you man." Matty bristles and sits up a little. _Oh nooo, Harry's so scared! He's a dead man walking, oooo!_

"Nah." Harry murmurs dropping down on the couch the furthest away from Louis and Matty. "I do the fucking, thank you very much." Harry snatches a pack of menthols from the Rhino trunk they've set up as a coffee table and taps it bottom side down on his palm. "Hey kid," Harry grits and nods at Louis with a dangling cig balanced between his lips.

Louis shrivels in on himself when Harry starts inching closer to him. "You wanna have a go 'round in the _Milkway_? You don't even gotta stay for round two-"

Louis doesn't get to muster up a remark as the second interruption of the afternoon clicks and clacks down the wooden hill.

**KLAK.**

**KLAK.**

**KLAK.**

"Oh, Haribo." Envy tsks as she comes down. Her red ruby pout is to die for and her legs shining, shimmering, splendid. "Didn't they teach you not to play stupid games for stupid prizes in elementary school?" Jesus, Her new platinum blonde hair makes her stand out like a sore thumb, she had everyone gaping and Louis felt like her fashion paragon just sitting there watching it unfold.

Envy as it were, was in an expensively skanky dress and shiny oily legs that were hiding under tall red strapped boots, The strings made her look like a hog tied Vegas prostitute—or stripper.

Either or she was flaunting and [_stunning bad_](https://folkcoure.tumblr.com/post/640635971850960896/oh-haribo).

Louis _(unfortunately),_ remembered those boots. They cost a pretty penny. The day they went into Neiman Marcus she was out to kill, and not just her wallet. Spending and blowing like crazy, Louis really hated how one of her hobbies included making retail workers cry and shoe tailors bite at the stubs of their fingernails. Shopping was a pastime not a task.

"When'd you get back from Greece anyway?" Harry mumbles sitting back into his spot stained couch. Eyes running over her tall, dark silhouette like she was Barbie, or his new toy.

"Like an hour ago." She purrs, unzipping her tight white leather jacket and tossing it at Matty who immediately inhales the wafts of _TokyoMilk_ and sweat residue inside the collar of the coat. Matty was a pig. "Matty Healy." She tsks and snatches it back.

Harry on the other hand had his eyes following the outline of her collar bones to the mounds of her breasts shadowing perfectly in the semi darkness. Louis scowled, she was like their sister.

"Eyes up here." She bites and scoffs, lashing out at Harry who quickly puts on a snide smile still staring at the well proportioned milk jugs that hung off her chest, even raising his eyebrows in appreciation.

"Reckon I can see clear to the promised land from here." He smirks crossing his arms behind his neck.

On the other side of the couch Louis' sparkly nails dig into Matty's slender pasty bicep.

"Ouch Kitty." Matty mumbles picking up his discarded blunt, hovering over his earlobe. "I love the lack of personal space baby, but your tiny little claws have it out for me and daddy don't like gumdrop." Louis glowers and releases his hold on the Austin Powers paradigm.

"Jeez Nat...blonde again huh?" Harry says in a far away world when he realizes the new head of hair Envy's sporting, He lifts a beer from the cooler on the floor and twists and cradles the neck of the bottle between both his palms, Louis watches intently. "I always did like blondes better." He says, it makes Louis' throat constrict and his face flare up something ugly, _He knows what the means. Harry fucking knows what he's doing._

"You like anything with two legs, a head and a hole, and don't call me Nat." Envy scoffs and rips the Budweiser out of his hand taking a swig for herself. Louis scowls at Harry who lets it happen with a sexy red smirk.

Matty doesn't even turn to look at Envy instead puffing and killing himself with his dirtiest vice, and it makes Louis' insides twist. Did Harry just have it out for him? Was that it?

"You're goddamn right I do." Harry growls with his heavy southern accent and looks over at Louis who narrows his eyes but looks away again.

"Holes. Plural." Louis mumbles, picks his nails and keeps his head down and shoulders up, defending himself. Harry still hears him though.

"What was that pipsqueak?" Harry hisses again, sitting up. Louis turns his head further away from his direction and shrugs. _Where's Zayn when you need him?_

-

When Zayn arrives after a thousand calls and a million other texts, Louis notices the tight lump in Harry's throat constrict but it's not nearly at its full potential, that's when Louis finally gets to smirk.

Tables keep turning, turning and turning. _(Louis decides he is super duper up to a game of cat and mouse.)_

"Hi baby." Zayn says kissing his forehead and throwing his arm around his shoulders after he removes his body-cross satchel and weasels himself between Matty and Louis.

Harry glares.

It seems like from the huff, tussled hair, and huge violet blotch still blooming on his face Zayn was presenting himself in, it's no secret it's been a long, scholarly day.

Reveling in beatnik fashion and style never did do Zayn well with making friends.

Poor baby was so stiff and stressed, Louis wanted to run his hands over his shoulders and whisper something intimate and homey, mmm,

He'd take pleasure in watching as Zayn's eyes close and shutter.—head, reeling and rolling back in euphoria from delicate little pink fingernails and red rosy knuckles—but—the promise ring that laid so cautiously on his hand has yet to have the potential of an engagement ring. Sometimes, Louis would picture a huge heart shaped pink diamond with a gorgeous but—buoyant silver band—encrusted to the nines, in full feather with little white diamonds-

"Booooo!" Matty jeers when Zayn starts gaining distance between Louis and himself, ultimately breaking his white veil fantasies. 

"Look what the cat dragged in." Harry mumbles under his breath. Everybody else seems to mind their biscuits about it, but Louis' furious gears grind together. _Harry never did leave well-fucking-enough alone._

Harry was kind of proud of himself, he'll admit that. All that hype about Zayns face? He got it now. Purple and black with the imprint of his pretty rings all up on his tanned Hoity-toity face. Muahaha.

"Sooo, come bearing news, lover boy?" Envy inquires after hours of scrolling through her phone, she doesn't even pay any mind to her surroundings. She doesn't actually care...years and years of prestigious practice on Louis' part has shown true value _(not)_. But, alas, with the help of Envy's somewhat inebriation she...could—care, that is.

Harry was still fuming. Who the fuck cared about how Zayn's day went! He was a winger for fucks sake he was the weakest link of the entire hockey team, no one gave him the time of day! No, right...not until the time came to baby someone.

 _Fils de pute._ Where was his pity and sympathy?

"Nah, just hit some speakeasy with these girls from my art class." Zayn runs his fingers through Louis' soft puff of walnut hair. _So fucking pleased with himself._

Louis, whose face crumbles, doesn't understand. Zayn never told him any of that. Zayn did say he was going to stay late for a tutoring lesson, Louis' guesses it just so happened he was probably tutoring in fucking, tongues and spit.

"What the hell where you doing at a speakeasy?" Louis accuses with sharp eyebrows. "With girls?" He detaches himself from Zayn's side and in a hasty manner continues scrunching his face in the most bitter, asinine way.

Harry kind of liked this. Seeing them fall right out of place like a Jenga puzzle. Yeah, He could work with this, this'll do nicely. Louis was always pushing buttons that much was true, nagging like a dripping fucking faucet, god Harry wanted it. He wanted to fight and yell and argue and grab him by the throat just to scream and kiss him all in the same breath.

"Yeah Zayn what were you doing at a speakeasy with girls? Plural." Harry chuckles when Louis' face further twists at the news again.

"After I tutored, Me and a group of friends went out and were talking over a sculpture that we were assigned as a group— _Louis_." Zayn sighs rubbing the temples of his head with one arm still laid out across the back of the couch. "Come on bluebell, sit down-"

"Fuck you." Louis didn't believe him. Harry was almost as pleased as punch. "Don't you fucking _'bluebell'_ me you damn dog! I'm goin’ back home and-you!—can stay right here in your shitty little trap house." Zayn groans and Matty giggles, _trap._

Harry bites his knuckle to stop his glee, this is what he's been waiting for he can almost taste it. 

Louis, can't bear to hear another word from Zayn's lying mouth. He marches to his bag and rips out his tiny pink winter cape, clipping it over his chest and throwing the hood on. 

Across the room Harry watches Louis leave, grinning from ear to ear. _Fuck yeah! Hanky Panky._

Zayn stands up and grabs his own satchel, tiredly throwing the old thing on and rubbing his eye. "I think we should talk about this Louis, you're being incredibly irrational."

"Fuck you! Irrational?! Fuck you and your pacifist bullshit you whorefucker!" Louis screams and finally storms up the stairs. Harry whistles and pats his back pockets for his car keys.

"I guess that's my queue!" Harry brightly announces, standing like he had the place to. "I know I'm a bit tipsy, but a few letterboxes for a bit of tight ass-"

"Shut the _fuck_ up Harry." Zayn hisses cutting him off forcefully, to everyone's _double_ surprise, he trails behind Louis up the stairs and onto the front porch.

 _And well, first time for everything,_ Envy thinks.

Everyone else scrambles to eavesdrop. Just as well as crawling up the stairs and sitting in the threshold to listen to what ever petty fight they were about to have.

Harry wanted to see how easy it was for Zayn to mess up and say the wrong thing. Harry was a natural in that caliber. You could never say the right thing to Louis, he was tempered and crazy. Harry fucking loved that about him. 

"Louis," Zayn sighs tiredly from the porch, "Where are you going?" Louis whips around briskly, marching back up the steps of said porch.

"I'm goin' back home! I'm goin' back and-and you're not gonna follow me there!" Louis screams but he wants to die in a hole. A very dark and lonely hole. 

Louis blinks wearily when three orphaned toddlers ring their bells behind them and they all see his big fat tears sliding down his puffed face. 

It's enough to make them stop on their bulky yellow tricycles and stare. Then he sniffles, just like an apocalypse siren, they ride away awkwardly, looking back at their caretaker who too is uncomfortably shouldering past them.

This was the furthest thing from pleasant to him.

"I don't care to ever see you again." Louis says in the most snide way. It makes Zayn's face falls in humiliation.

He knows that on the other side of the screen door three faces were waiting to burn him.

"If you would just let me explain to you-" Zayn begs. Louis cuts him off.

"Explain it to me?! Explain how you didn't tell me you were out on the town, drinking with women?!— who I don't fucking know?!" Louis tries to look in Zayn's eyes but just deflates again in aching pain. "I don't know what I ever saw in you! I must've been outta' my damn mind to ever even think you could-" Louis falters, and huffs with embarrassment. "That you could-"

Louis brushes his hair off his temple and abashedly fumbles his mittens on, watching how Zayn is just as flustered as he is.

"I could...what?" Zayn mutters taking a noble step towards him, his beret was beautiful and the ring around his eyes were dark. His iris' were like pools of endless, bountiful honey, to Louis, he was so beautiful it hurt. "Baby." Zayn breathes, it's an exhale of fear and tension and everything bad.

"I don't wanna say it." Louis chokes

"Tell me." Zayn says firmly, demands more than asks. 

"I just thought," he swallows "That you could be in love with me-" Louis whispers, voice cracking and wavering. "-Like I'm in love with you." He finishes with a watery smile and a shrug of a thousand uncertainties. 

Harry, on the other side of the door, finally lets his world stop and along with it, the cold brittle feeling of his non-deliberately placed heart, shatters.

With their feet buried under snow, Zayn's face glows and gleams as he takes another step towards Louis. His fingers brush over his arm then as he approaches him slowly, lets his hand dance around to the small of Louis' back over his bony spine where he traces an up-and-down pattern before tingling the pads of his fingers to the nape of Louis' fuzzy neck.

Harry's throat constricts as he looks away. The very core of his being turns to ash and whittles away with every other confession he's made the mistake of hearing.

"I _am_ in love with you." Zayn murmurs, the breath of his wintery mouth wafts over Louis the pink apples of his cheeks, it feels like frostbite, and it feels like warmth at the same time. "I'm so in love with you, it drives me crazy." He confesses with relief, Louis' watery smiles makes them both laugh.

This is real love and Louis understands it. He understands everything now, he gets it, he knows. He now knows there is no searing ache of un-trust, or even miscalculations of jealousy and definitely no cold harsh beatings of disappointments that he'd ever have to dwell on again.

So, Harry's throat runs dry. His mind is like a movie reel of all the precious little moments he'll never have again. Summer dresses he'll never be able to rub between his fingers, lips like sweet candy kissing and giggling with him, whispering little nothings that meant everything to him—everything to him, forever.

"I'm in love with you." Louis gasps out with a tearful simper. Once upon a time, he probably would've laughed in your face if you told him Harry Styles wasn't meant for him, or if Harry Styles was never going to commit to him properly. He wouldn't have let it go through his stick skull, not like he did now.

Louis couldn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth, he couldn't believe they would ever be uttered again, not to anyone else. Not to anyone who wasn't the quite literal green-eyed monster he'd been dreaming and yearning for, for all of his lifetimes. He laughs again but covers his mouth in disbelieve at the soft, sweet essence of his lover's eyes, beautiful peace and mellowness. Not mysterious and dark, brooding with passion that pumped him full of adrenaline and pleasures.

Louis doesn't hesitate anymore.

They laugh with so much tears spilling and tracking down their cheeks. Kissing and kissing, again and again, smiling with teeth clinking and tongues lapping.

They were like those couples in commercials with fake happiness and fake love, big Colgate smiles and goo-goo eyes. But this was real, and it wasn't a bunch of well paid actors going out on limbs to get a decent wage, this was Louis and Zayn, putty in each others hands, making their own game and playing by their own rules, rules that weren't changed every other day.

"Let’s go." Says Zayn, Louis nods and with an Eskimo kiss they set off with intertwined, cashmere, mitten hands.

Louis skips away with the brightest smile on his baby face and when they finally fade out of view the footprints they leave in the fresh powdered snow are impressed with warmth and tenderness.

And they leave true to their word.

Harry, was a ghost with pale, sick, green eyes. The parched feeling in his mouth was a never ending reminder that every breath he took after this, it would be alone.

Matty who is now sobered up, doesn't mean to add insult to injury but Harry looked lifetimes away and had the face of a hollowed out pumpkin. The shell of a man, if you would.

"I think they're good for each other." He says with caution, still searching for a reaction from Harry. He hasn't moved since the word 'love' had spilled out of Louis' soft pink mouth. His eyes had glistened and hardened all in the span of the breath it took to say the four letter word, mind reeling.

Matty waits for a snide comment or a douche-y comeback, instead he hears Envy agree with a blissful sigh of fairytales and love spells, God, she was useless.

But in Harry's empty echoing chest, finally, the last of his heartstrings collapse and snap, his chest is like heavy concrete, molding up a new heart and drying in stone instead. He feels alone, and cold.

Louis leaving, even in the arms of another man, is and always will be the worst heartbreak he's ever felt, no other pain will ever come to the same extent and be as insufferable as listening to the confession your ex-bestfriend has given to your ex-boyfriend, professing their love for one another with full fledged faith and trust. Harry loses all credibility, right here, right now.

No twin flame—no kindred spirit.

Harry wanted to let him know that he was in love with him too, that he still waiting for him, just like he'd always been, but not like this—and not anymore.

He lets his heart blacken with bitterness and agony.   
  


-

Following the confessions, Zayn and Louis seemingly catch on fire.—And they say flames die out but Louis was like a walking ember caught on wool, dancing and curtsying with the wind that blew him three times as warm.

Sometimes, Louis would watch Zayn crawl over his belly to pepper kisses on his neck or face. Even at the best of times he'd kiss Louis' shoulder blades and hold him down to an angle he'd like and stare at him for ages.

"You like what you see?" Louis purrs. 

Currently, he was wearing pretty olive colored lingerie, he blinked up at Zayn with twinkling eyes.

"I love what I'm looking at, yes." Zayn declares at the foot of the bed, eyeing the sheer white stockings, tight on Louis' short little legs.

"Mm, pillow talk is obliged then?" Louis stretches a little and mewls, smacking his mouth for effect.

"If you'd like it to be." Zayn offers kindly, but he knows what he wants and it makes Louis' lips quirk.

"I want my parents to like you when we take leave next week." Louis reminds him and kind of whines like he's not sure if they will, as one tends to do. "My maman's insane, I don't really care for her opinion." Louis wasn't exaggerating.

"Well I'd like to meet your mom anyway. I hope I make a good impression on her and not at all like the one I did on you." Zayn groans and pinks, it makes Louis softly laugh reaching over to grab him by the thigh.

"Oh, baby, I think you made a pretty good first impression, bloody nose and all." Louis says almost cooing like he was talking to his own kin.

  
**before**

Their team had won, Harry was benched and sort of happy that night (still making it to his best friends' game was just as important he had said). Zayn appreciated it—What he didn't appreciate, was the ice biscuit that had flown steady straight into his face and squarely smack on the bridge of his nose.

Coach Pontiac blew his whistle when his head had thudded on ice the sound echoed around the rink, It was enough to be fucking traumatizing, with everyone's eyes on him and lurking stares, it had chills running up and down his spine.

Then, all of his teammates had skidded to a halt above him, surrounding him like a time-out netting off ice. They all reached hands out and pulled him up by different parts of his body, skating and pulling him towards the benches where he had also tripped and fell on steps of the threshold.

And as if it couldn't be more embarrassing, "Oof." Zayn landed in front of wide eyed Louis Tomlinson, dressed down in all white with the exception of a powdered blue sweater and his tall sweaty boyfriend, whether or not their relationship was still a complicated façade was unknown to Zayn.

Harry, holding him like arm-candy didn't care what other people thought about the matter anyway. Because, As long as no one else was playing with his gorgeously custom made Southern Belle porcelain dolls then he didn't care, why would it matter to him if everybody knew Bluebell was off limits anyway?

Up close, Louis Tomlinson looked better than behind the discreet glances Zayn would throw every time he'd see him by the Fraternity hamlet of their school grounds. 

"Hi!" Louis Tomlinson speaks to him and holds both his arms out like in one of Zayn's dreams (even though this was a reality) the cloudy vignette bordering around Zayn's eyesight was screaming at him differently.

Going in for the hug, Zayn has a furiously pink colored face, trying to mellow out this newfound feeling of mousiness and bashfulness he digs his face into the shoulder of the blue eyed cherub.

"Hello." Zayn finally utters and finally let's go of the tiny body pressed against his, looking back up at his best friend who has the widest smile on his face.

Zayn figures Harry's probably just happy his two worlds were finally colliding, (probably) not aware of the turmoil going on in his best friends head.

"I hear you're a connoisseur of the arts." Louis interrupts his guilty conscience and teases a darling smile. He's unaware of the way he radiates charisma and calls the attention of everyone here, if he is aware, that is, then it should be utter madness for someone to be that persistent with character. "—Oh non, poor thing," Louis pouts and at first Zayn's mind doesn't register that he's still talking to him until Louis points at his own nose. "Your nose is bleeding hon." He tsks. "Oh! Take this." Louis rummages through his bag and tsks repeatedly like a scolding MILF, pulling out a piece of expensive ivory cloth. It was embroidered with his initials, soft pink letters and an outline of gold thread pulling the whole thing together like an aristocratic fan.

Zayn breaks his own line of thought, turning his bloody nose up in the air and grabbing the lacy handkerchief that's been pulled from Louis' tiny little purse. Zayn didn't understand the physics of women's purses, especially one that was despicably small.

Harry and Louis both watch him like the mad man he was with blood still flowing from his nose because Zayn was still looking at the handkerchief held between his fingers like it was a delicate eggshell. _Idiot_ , he cursed himself. 

"Are you sure?" Zayn inquired awkwardly, wavingit back towards Louis who nods briskly with an assuring smile.

"Oh yes," He insisted, and it makes Zayn waver with the same small smile, Louis sounds like a fancy Disney princess. "Please keep it." Louis says and Zayn hesitates again. "It was for emergencies anyway."

"No, uh, it's f-fine." Zayn blanches, he's never stuttered like this before, no impending doom of nervous breakdowns has ever made him swallow his tongue like Louis Tomlinson was with his big bright almond eyes and light littering of freckles, the universe had it out for him with pretty little betties.

"Take it as a token of my esteemed gratitude." Louis curtsies a bow and titters while doing so, it makes Harry roll his eyes and snort, probably used to his silly antics.

Zayn gapes a little and swallows, no one told him he was this pretty. No one ever warned him about the boy with the freckles and the singular dimple on his beautiful face, framing it like an unblemished oil painting.

Louis was torn out of a Renaissance piece, he was sure of it, straight from the palace of Versailles. Zayn couldn't remember his own name when he was looking at him that's how he was so damn sure.

Harry notices this weird look on Zayn's face and side eyes him behind Louis, pulling the small boy in by the waistline. Bending his spine, back hunching, he nestles his face in the soft fuzzy skin of Louis' neck, and breathes in and exhales a single breath that turns his skin to bumps. Zayn watches them with a sort of green sick stomach.

"I'm taking bluebell to the ballet today," Zayn nods, listening very intently. "I'll catch you later kid, we're gonna get up to some hanky-panky." Harry smirks, pinching Louis' ass under his white skirt. Louis grimaces up at Harry then distressfully smiles back at Zayn, tugging his skirt down hastily. Zayn decided he doesn't like Harry Styles' wandering hands.

"Would you be quiet?" Louis hisses under his breath and takes a step closer to Zayn in order to derive the hands on his hips. "It was really nice meeting you." Louis smiles warmly taking a final step to hug him in a farewell.

Zayn unfolds his arms and rests a hand on the small of Louis' back in a very displeasing platonic hug, Zayn knows he'll regret it for ages.

"Yeah, um—" Zayn stumbles through his words as Harry pulls Louis back into his chest with an arm around his neck. "—I-I'll see you guys, it was nice meeting you too bluebe-Louis! sorry, I meant to say Louis." Zayn flushes at his mistake and wants to dig his heels into the earth and curse himself, he wants to hide his shameful face into his padded hockey gear weighing heavy on his shoulders and melt into a consternated puddle of his own sweat. This was a horrible mistake he couldn't control. "I'm gonna go..."

Harry shoots a look of mere confusion and mouths a very useless 'chill out.' Louis, polarly, smiles sweetly with a press of his lips and crinkles his eyes, wiggling his fingers in a small wave.

"Laters." Louis bid of adieu is a breath of lust, like an echo ricocheting in Zayn's mind forever and ever, a constant reminder that he'll never get over this feeling. That feeling of whether or not he'll ever love him like he'd like to, just—eating at his already slender body.

_**Laters. Laters. Laters.** _

Lastly, Zayn watches Louis tilt his head like that of a curious kitten and a bowl of milk at its ever-so-soft feet. Zayn quickly averts his eyes when Louis catches it—that look of tender adoration.

"Laters." Zayn swallows and walks away from their tight knit public display of affection, unsure of the next time he'll see Louis Tomlinson and his big blue diamond eyes.

And as he walks away and turns back to look at them, his chest feels concave, feeling like it's hard to breathe and wrap his head around the sudden realization he's just had about his best friends boyfriend—maybe it'll be years from now where he might be able to confess his ever righteous love and chivalry for his missus, just—maybe.

Louis Tomlinson from this day onward is a branded knife on his pumping erratic heart.   
  
  


**Now**

Honestly even now, especially on the high thread count Egyptian cotton sheets of Louis Tomlinson's bed, letting said boy hand him Sobranie's feels like something enchanting, Almost like an arrow flown deliberately into Louis' chest has him acting out and playing house with him.

Louis' unreliable peace doesn't believe this is real life, this has to be a Barbie and Ken role play fantasy. Everything was too perfect, way too perfect.

"I have something I wanna give you." Zayn declares and interrupts his heavy cargo train of thought. Louis nods and picks at his manicured nails, what an expensive waste.

"You're bein' so sweet to me beau, I almost feel some suspicious agenda incoming." Louis teases with a beautiful New Orleans accent but truly, fear has got him in full stop brakes. "You're so good to me what'd I do to deserve a man like you? _Ah mon doudou_." Louis sighs and rests his head in the palm of his hand watching through thick honey colored eyelashes how Zayn's taut slender and muscular body reacted to each of his honeyed, breathy words.

"Shh, it's a surprise bluebell." Zayn shushes, but Louis can't help but almost drool at his lips, all cushioned with pink loveliness, what a beautiful man. Especially with such a strong body, every muscle on his torso looked like a chiseled piece of a standing sculpture made to represent each delectable God and Goddess.

"Oh beau, I'm not a patient gal." He giggles and undoes one of the knots in his back when he stretches and mewls like a kitten

"Hush now I'm not playing with you baby." Zayn murmurs and still tinkers with his bag latches, sort of trembling like a reed on nasty conditions.

To Louis, Zayn was still fresh off the drawing board, looking too tempting to the touch. Very seductive in mannerisms and loco in bed.

Louis squeezed his thighs, _oh what a man, what a selfless, passionate man._

Louis crossed his legs and uncrossed his legs each time Zayn twisted around their beautifully adorned room, cluttered with little paintings and ormolu technique furniture.

Placed on a glass tea trolley were Black Russians that Zayn had fretted on about, a beautiful porcelain tea set—creamer and all—, jelly donuts, cocaine, an assortment of pearl poker die, bubblegum sticks, a cheese platter, too much condoms and a blob candle that smelt like a burning rose.

Louis was content with his life, an bountiful amount of champagne and soft boiled brown eggs for breakfast probably did that anyone's frail state of mind, but he was so sure of this adrenaline fuelled romance. So content and joyous he could burst into shimmering glitter.

So, every little thing Zayn Malik did was like new knowledge to Louis, he still doesn't understand why Zayn insisted on giving him breakfast in bed or even driving him to classes everyday, it was mysterious-infatuation was what it was, but he was well on his way to understanding better.

In contrast, curiosity is like madness to Louis, so he eagerly crawls to the end of their large-scaled bed where Zayn is latching his satchel back closed, and finally pulling out a delectable box, what a beautiful shade of Tiffany blue.

Louis' gorgeous sapphire eyes twinkle and he lets out a squeal and a small clap of his hands contradicting his passive neutrality.

"Tiffany and Co! Oh you are too darlin’!" Louis squeals again and makes grabby hands at Zayn who tuts and shakes his head.

When he finally forks the fist over, Louis smiles with all his teeth then finally brushes his fingers over the matte box, internally malfunctioning with happiness.

"Wh—" He falters mid squeal. "A luggage tag?" Louis is disappointed but still eager when it's revealed. Zayn smiles tenderly and nods so sure of himself. "It's—well, It's a luggage tag!" Louis says awkwardly and holds it up to his face with a terse smile. "Thank you I love it..."

He didn't get it, Was it dipped in gold?

"Louis it's not the luggage tag, honestly I wanted to ask you to come with me." Zayn says seriously, serious like Louis'd never seen him before.

"Go with you...?" Louis' head was turning gears.

"To Provence." Zayn announced, Louis paled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh


	6. Don’t you want me baby?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though Harry has made an effort in putting his feelings aside for Louis he’ll never be able to resist him for the world. 
> 
> Matty doesn't know how he does it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this short little chapter makes up for my lack of updating and if it doesn't...i hope to make up for that as well 🙏🏼

Just past 3 am and Louis has yet to have some shut-eye, he doesn't want any anyway, not when Harry Styles was on the same page of his unrequired insomnia.

Louis and Harry had both reluctantly agreed to meet at Harry's trailer park so Louis could break some solidifying news and god knows what else.

It wasn't like Louis to rendezvous over at Harry's place--except now, when they have nowhere else to go.

They had no other place to hide and seek, Not Envy's French Normandy, not even Matty‘s bachelor pad of stink and filth. 

Louis clears his throat and skips up the steps, all compact and petite. His huge fur coat and pink fiddler hat bounce around him like an animated cartoon character. That would probably explain his Disney princess physique.

Louis knocks twice and feels his hands tremble as he settles them on each side of his thighs.

This was neat-o. This was okay.   
  


He inhales once and exhales twice.

This is not okay.

When you look closer all of it was ugly and filthy. The cans of liquid infidelity, the trailer parks with loud people, dogs on chains, and clothes on barbed wire, all of it.

Harry's trailer park was the usual run-of-the-mill white-trash bivouac, unsurprising that. So, Louis wasn't hardly surprised when Harry opens the door half-naked and Pabst cradled in his bandaged right hand.

"Do you know what time it is?" Harry hisses, then he moves his hand up to grab Louis by the nape of his neck with his left hand. Harry squeezes him thrice and the smoky smell of his aftershave wafts around them both. Harry's breaths were shallow and merely a ghost of his voice.

Harry seems like he had move hastily minutes before Louis' arrival, and he was shirtless. Which was...good, more than good 'cause Louis definitely wasn't complaining.

Harry rolls the can around to the lip and chugs long and hard. (Heh.) Still sipping from the patriotic can, he twirls Louis around, tiny hand in his and whistles. "You're smoking sha."

"Well, gee. I'm flattered." Louis giggles, drowsy and in need of a put-down. He was no longer cut out for late-night rendezvous. "Glad we could meet here, I don't want us to get caught again." He leans up to peck Harry on his plump lips but the himbo reels back like he'd just been stung. Quirking his lips, Harry throws a thumb over his shoulder.

"Matty's passed out on the couch," He admits. "Drunk as Cooter Brown, I reckon." Harry continues with a kind of tipsy smile. Louis' eyes widen, Matty was drunk. _God_ , Matty was _drunk_ and he could've said anything to Harry.

"Harry, if he's too drunk, I can take good ca-"

"Come on blue, he's fine. Put 'im down hours ago." Harry opposed, and it seems to simmer Louis down for the time being. "At least I think he's okay..." Harry scratches his head and peaks through the living room, he shrugs but makes no move to check on him. Louis bites his nails and switches the pressure on his feet, _Oh Matty._

As it were, they move past the Matty fiasco. "If Matty's out cold, why can't you kiss me?" He whines with a sort of muzzle, scrunching his eyebrows and wrinkling his eyes. "Kiss me." He decrees and demands. He was getting fed up with this nonchalant cold treatment.

Harry leans down with hooded eyes and parted lips, so close to Louis' beaming face of radiating etherealness and fans a single glacial, mint-scented breath over the tiny peak of his nose.

The breath pushes up until the bridge between his eyebrows, then down over his eyelids where his eyelashes blow like grass.

 _"No."_ Harry spurts and denies quickly watching Louis' glow fade.

Bluebell barely gets enough time to glower and frown, the tug of his lips dulls his face and he no longer cares for his angel likeness when Harry is grabbing him by the hand, leading him to his chamber of sweet corruption.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Louis sputters, trying to tug in the opposite direction, his strength is no match for Harry's beefy arms and meaty biceps, but he's never not tried to get his way.

"I mean _no dice_ baby doll," Harry remarks and discards his can with a crush of his fist and a toss to the floor, in a way that suggested such actions were a common part of this routine. Louis tsks his mouth and smacks his pec lightly.

In Harry's room, Louis doesn't trust him and his dark tired eyes, the taunting smirk of his stupid face, or the abnormally defiant pet ferret he shares with Matthew Healy.

"My little Garlic clove." Louis coos, ultimately contradicting his fine grudge. He steps through the weed stench-infused threshold to get a load of stinky pet and maybe a load of the other guy too. "Keen thing ain't you Clover?" Louis coos.

The ferret mewls and blinks slowly in Louis' arms as if he's finally seen his momma after several long hiatuses— it wasn't a stretch. Clover titters some more and rubs the soft fur of his forehead on Louis' bicep, demanding the tickling of his fingers.

" _Ça va, mon bebe?_ " Harry inquires from his bed where he's now plopped on, and the brown shamrock mewls. _"Ah bon,_ how's my other baby doin'?" Louis blushes ferociously and waddles towards him, ferret and all.

"I'd be better off with kisses." Louis eludes and places the animal back on the floor, when it runs and leaps off the bed and into the hall, assumably to go berate Matty. Louis kicks the door softly and fastens the lock.

It makes Harry's smirk grow something cocky. _Louis would always come back to him; that much was obvious, but this soon?_ It was probably an insurgency that Louis was heeding against his boyfriend. Insurgency or not, it made Harry feel vain, cocky, and overall prideful.

"Ain't you a promised woman kid?" Harry chuckles behind his massive ring clad fingers, tilting his face to eye him, the very scandalous sequin dress that was shadowing the milky skin of Louis' pert ass, big thighs, and flat stomach was stunning.

—And _God_ , his face. Louis' mug was gorgeous and everyone knew it, It was all in his freckled nose and incandescent glow of his red cheeks.

_He was gorgeous as all hell._

"You are promised though, right?" Harry continues pushing the irrelevant agenda and Louis raises his eyebrows, he was amused.

Harry licks his fat lips. "I reckon you're wanting something old." He questions with a raise of his brows. Louis mirrors his mannerisms and cocks his head, then Harry swipes his tongue on his bottom lip and tugs. "Mm, something new? No-no, something borrowed, or was it something...blue?" Harry continues baiting Louis while slowly reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

Suddenly and suavely Harry pulls the rod from its notch and tugs the dark brown leather tongue from each tight denim loop. It had Louis salivating in anticipation; he hadn't seen Harry in a while and he could hardly be put to blame. "You'd think the man you're promised to wouldn't mind the hanky-panky." Harry chuckles, Double the amusement now. "Come on Louis don't set yourself up, sha." Harry's smirk was undeniably cocky.

Testing Louis.

"He doesn't give a damn what I get up to. That much is clear." Louis' says very southernly. He looks around the room and sighs, turning back towards the tender affection. Instead, he's met with steely eyes and pursed pillow lips. "Oath to my word," he adds, probably not helping Harry's biased opinion of Louis' boyfriend.

"I didn't say I ain't believe you." Harry chuckles darkly, Louis looks away abashed."He won't do you no good baby, you know he's a personified vagabond. He's just no use darlin'." Harry tsks. Louis notices how Harry's stopped the process of undressing himself, he pouts.

 _Phooey_.

"I guess you're the big enchilada, huh Haribo?" Louis teases, Harry shrugs and frowns again. This time, there's a big flash of thought that crosses his face. He doesn't show it again.

"Baby I'm whatever you want me to be," Harry says zealously. It's probably meant to sound romantic and everything Louis would want to hear, but Louis can't bring it in himself to care.

"I want you to be naked." Louis sort of slurs. It's kind of mouth-watering to look at Harry like this, his arms flexed behind his head pillowing the back of his neck and a wooden toothpick rolling around on his lips, what a stupid, fit body. Harry shrugs and brings his hands to the bottom of his shirt in a scrunch, throws it over his head, rests the back of his skull on his elbows again, and winks.

Louis exhales shakily, squeezes his doughy tan thighs, and melts at the super masculine display.

Over in Nadaville, Harry still had eyeliner on from his ridiculously sexy rock and roll ensemble. It made for a very sweet seduction, one involving Louis and his bounteous ass that jiggled and bounced when he'd bend over and struggle with his tight-fitting jeans, the other involving Haribo and his broad shoulders flexing.

Harry was all chiseled face and collar bones, even the clenching of his jaw that constricted the muscles of his neck was absolutely insane to Louis.

"C'mon, Haribo." Louis moans and kicks off his dangling heels; The crystal-embellished shoes fly across the room. "Why won't you look at me sugar?" He lets out a high pitched whine, and whimpers when Harry doesn't let up on his haughty look, Harry's been so tough to read lately, at rehearsals and gigs, during get-togethers, etc.

_What the hell was up with him? Didn't Harry want playtime? Wasn't that what this whole thing had been about? Jeez Louise talk about hot and cold. _

"Don't you want me, baby?" Louis pouts and bends down, leveling his height with the bed. Louis crawls between Harry's sprawled nonchalant body, and Harry shrugs like he wasn't moved.

That won't do.

"You don't want me?" Louis whispers and finally lets his hands brace themselves over Harry's iron chest and rigid pecs. "You been hittin' the rink sugar?" His small hands were red at the knuckles and cool to the touch. It made Harry shiver a little and Louis' giggle in return. _"Mon Dieu."_ He murmurs this time, still running his hands over Harry's tense biceps and hard abdomen, he appreciated how beefy Harry had gotten, properly approved even. "Oh please talk to me, beau."

"Don't," Harry says, it's quiet and small but not ignorable, still—Louis disregards him.

Under Louis' palms, The green-eyed Montague lets his dark lashes hit his cheekbones and sort of watches over Louis' glittery kitten claws. Then, Harry turns his gaze over his shoulder when he catches Louis' foxy dazed look of eerie concupiscence, Louis was starstruck.

Again, Louis runs his fingers into the concave and more detailed parts of Harry's chest, smile faltering with every second of bayou silence.

"You been carousin' with people of ill fame?" Louis suggested into the silence meekly, it makes Harry quickly scrunch his eyebrows and nastily lower.

"What do you care what I get up to?" Harry grunts back and Louis' fingers curl into his laurels. Harry looks Louis in his cherubic little face and sort of deepens his glare or look of confusion...

"I-I was just askin'." Louis gulps the tightness of his throat down, he looks away sorrowfully, pathetically, and is just ready to move when Harry steadies him in place by his dainty wrists. "My mistake." Louis declares, he bows his head ready for further reprimands.

"Yeah, your fuckin' mistake," Harry murmurs and Louis lets his eyes droop. "—Quit asking stupid fucking questions." Harry sucks his teeth and rolls his toothpick between each front tooth, Louis watches under his big black lashes, wrists still jailed. "If it ain't my ring on your finger then it ain't my place to fool around with you kid." When Louis whines and wiggles on his thighs Harry grips the fat of his legs harder and shakes his head of soft curls. Louis was a Dixieland brat; an heiress to Sugar Barons. Harry had put up with a lot of tantrums.

"Don't call me kid," Louis turns away and tries to break the grips on his aching wrists. "D—D-Don't call me baby." Louis whimpers and blows a breath out looking up at Harry's perplexed face. "You don't think I can see right through you?" Louis utters and snatches hands away, his body jilts in the aftershock, and he looks at Harry once more. "You don't give a rats ass that I'm promised to him!" Harry's glare hardens beyond stone. "You're just a phony!"

"Don't you raise your damn voice at-" Harry starts nobly but Louis cuts him off with a huff and tucks his legs under his thighs, sitting up for the mere effect of graveness.

"N—N-No!" Louis cries out, his cheeks were sprouting a familiar rosy shade of annoyance. "Listen to me!" He screams and shoves Harry back on the soft bed, which results in his buff body jumping on the mattress from the force and toothpick flying carelessly.

Harry's never felt more erotically confused, he's well above shocked, and so is Louis.

"Listen," Louis's heart susurrates but he goes on. "You didn't care when I was seeing him casually and you didn't care when it was the other way around, s-so don't act high and mighty." Finally, "I care about you, sugar." Louis admits it sounds like a lie but either way...

Harry's heart thumps.

"That's gotta mean something," Louis' begs and his eyebrows come together like he was praying to the masses with them, all animated. "...surely?" Harry gulps and scratches his forehead, God. What does he say to something like that? Something he's been waiting to hear for months again, but all because his ex-missus was a dick appointment away from sealing their clandestine fate? Harry was in deep shit. " _Mon cœur,_ please." Louis feels Harry's heartbeat rather erratically under his palms and tries not to waver, he tries to hide the little smile dancing on his pretty little mouth. He could only hold in so much.

Louis lets out a breathy laugh like he couldn't believe he was begging for this, that's him and Harry both.

The sound of Harry's heart is so casually cruel to his own ears—betrayer, he thinks.

Louis, at feeling the sonically pounding beat, crawls completely over his body and straddles his navel like a horse jockey.

Harry thinks Louis' was too good at getting what he wanted.

"It's easy to play pretend." Louis' voice is sickening sweet honey, Harry had his defenses up. "But I think it's easier to play in bed." He finishes with a high lilt and a shiny pout, his fingers now amble casually across Harry's chest and settle over his left pectoral. "Mm." He sighs, his eyes fleet over Harry's face, when he's caught, he looks away and blushes coyly with a little giggle that turns Harry's stone-cold heart; soft like the bed beneath them.

"Whatch'ya gigglin' at?" Harry's lips quirk up, it's been a long time since they were like this, all sweet on each other and inexplicably happy.

Louis' eyelashes seem to curl with the heated air, bringing his eyes to an astounding finish. Harry stares and Louis giggles back. "You laughin' at me Bluebell?" Harry smiles cunningly. Then like a switch, Harry digs his fingers into the carved parts of Louis' body, tickling him till he was laughing like a maniac.

"Stop! N-No!" Louis attempts to slap his hands away but Harry chuckles lowly and continues his hearty attack. "Haribo!" He squeals and jostles around on Harry's lap, bouncing and jiggling. They squirm and laugh in the dim; glowing warmness of Harry's bedroom.

They wiggle around some more, and more and more. Until finally, they both come to a halt, looking down between the both of them, the bulge tucked into Harry's black jeans buries perfectly between the mounds of Louis' thick pudgy ass. "Oh, non." Louis pouts, all fucking remorseless.

Harry throws his head back. "Fuck." He moans in his throat. Louis gulps for effect and looks over his shoulder, down at the mess he's up and created. Harry was packing that was never a secret, it still excited Louis. "Look what you've done to me bluebell." Harry moans and smirks but it feels deriding—mocking.

Childishly, Louis rocks back with leisure and mischief, a big cheesy smile on his face and the feeling of Harry's dick swelling right over the pucker of his pink hole, it makes him drip wet.

"Everything you do is so fun." Louis whimpers high in his throat and rocks until he's got the steady pace of a ticking metronome.

Harry, at feeling the hot burn of stimulated arousal, instantaneously moves his hands to the love-handles on Louis' bodacious body, staring up at Louis, he licks his lips. He's never seen anybody so pretty, so raunchy and sexy and fucking on him like this, using his dick like a mechanical bull; riding him like stupid.

Louis was still grinding down against his throbbing cock, making Harry leak with every cocked movement of his gyrating hips while he had Harry right where he wanted him. He sighs with eyes closed, throwing his head back every time the tip of Harry's dick caught against the fabric of his panties.

Louis takes account of how Harry was medicine to him, and all Louis was, was a fucking pocket-pussy to him. "Sugar." Louis sighs brokenly, his breaths coming down all stifled and breathy, Harry was concerned with the lack of air they were getting, they were instead relying on both their pants and exhales of filthy vulgarity. " _Mangé-moi, s'te plaaaait_." Louis whines, clutching the tattoos of Harry's abdomen. Like they were gonna do any justice to this.

"Fuck, baby." Harry moans all guttural, deep from the pit of his hell stomach. "Oh, shi-it." He shudders when Louis rolls faster, digging his head into the crook of Harry's neck to gain more friction or probably more speed, whatever he was doing was making Harry turn to silly putty.

"I'm so selfish Haribo." Louis feels the curve of Harry's cock begin to gather the sloppy seed from his balls, it makes Louis swerve his hips unevenly and break the paced tempo of their dry humping. "—And you're so selfless baby, you're so good to me sweetness." Louis wails, rocking on him harder to ignite the friction of their grinding. Harry would try not to roll his eyes back, bite at his knuckles, anything to not fucking come in his pants like a 13-year-old virgin, and shoot a load in between them both.

Oppositely, Louis would clench his hole against the cock rubbing on the soft material of his intimates and tried to get Harry to soil himself. Louis'd pay for this.

The black tough jeans Harry was entrapped in were probably destroying the thread count of his cute silk panties, but Louis was in heaven—this was heaven.

"I don't think we should do this." Harry groans, but still reaches his hands down to Louis' hips and guide him forward and back again with every thrust and rock. Louis was leaving him speechless, hot and heavy. Harry would push his hips up and Louis would meet each thrust with a cant of his hips, rolling like crazy and panting 'till each shining surface of Harry's pigsty had fog and mist over it.

Harry hadn't humped anyone since junior high, this was fucking magic to them both. "Bluebell," Harry hisses when Louis ignores him. "I don't think—"

"You think?" Louis pouts his lips next to Harry's cheekbone; shining lip-glass like a mirror. "Don't you know it, baby?" Breathy giggles feel throughout his face and Harry breaks out in a blush.

Louis was drunk.

"You're drunk." Harry discovers and spits, even as it's revealed he's still humping into his ass like it was innate, pleasure clouding his judgment. "You're a fuckin' bitch." Harry grits and grabs Louis by the waistline, flipping them to reverse the power. Then Harry grabs Louis by the throat and rocks into the fabric of his lacy, beribboned panties. 

Deciding the friction was getting too numb for his cock, he unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down and over his thighs to take out his huge dick and slap it against the tan lines of Louis' navel, spreading his pre-come into his belly button and all over his belly jewel. "Fuck you." Harry spits again, angry at himself for not noticing, angry at Louis for doing something so stupid, angry at him for tricking him.

Louis whines and shakes his head, trying to take Harry's member into his palm, but Harry seizes his wrists and clutches them firmly against the mattress. His nostrils flare at the alcoholic breaths Louis' tried to tactically hide. Maybe the buzz was getting to bluebell's head. Well Fuck that, Louis was at the very least tipsy. 

"Don't pull that shit and fucking whine at me." Harry flips him over and slaps his ass red. He does it again and again until he's satisfied with the shade he's got going, ass bruising like peachy goodness. "The fuck you wearing black for?" Harry hisses, pulling Louis' revealed panties down with the hand that wasn't imprisoning his dainty wrists and slaps his ass again just for good measure.

"Black for you sugar." Louis slurs half soberly now. "Mm, don't you like 'em?" He moans and Harry glares, eyebrows bunching at a peak between his forehead.

Harry loved 'em. He was always so very overawed with Louis' selection of lingerie. Thongs, bikinis, boy-shorts, and god the G-strings, how so very unholy of thou.

Harry leans down to the height of Louis' back and breathes a breath of winter-mint on each globe of his ass. "You're so fucking filthy," Harry whispers lowly, grazing his lips over the peach fuzz of Louis' skin. Said skin smelt like oat milk and pretty perfume, Louis was regal, very Marie Antoinette.

Anyway, the viscosity of Louis' ass was above average, too peak in perfect. Harry was a mad man in comparison, he craved Louis' in any way he could have him.

Right now Louis was on his belly, fat ass in the air and his hole exhibited like a glass display full of pastries, he was a pastry.

"Haribo." Louis mewls. 

"Shut your fuckin' mouth," Harry growls, combing through Louis' hair just to grasp it between his clutches and rear his head back like whiplash. _"'Mange-moi?' C'est comme si c'était fait."_ Harry snarls and digs his fingers into the hollowness of Louis' hipbones. He arches to the command and Harry scoffs. Whore.

Slapping Louis' jiggly ass again, Harry spreads him open with one hand; the other arm and bicep curls around one of his thick thighs, pinning him in place.

Harry drools like it's genetics, hell it probably was. If anybody loved a good handful of ass it was his father—Fuck ass.

Louis' hole puckers and clenches around the fog they've created in the atmosphere of his room. Harry licks his lips and keeps that same demented smirk, if Louis was so horny Harry wouldn't indulge him...further than he already had. "Don't move." He grits.

Finally, Harry licks a stripe right under Louis' little balls and dives straight into his pink starfish. His jaw aches already just thinking about how fluid he'd have to be with his mouth and the lapping of his morbidly long; thick tongue.

Louis mewls softly and pants anyway. He throws his ass back onto Harry's wet pink mouth, the little movements of his hips stimulating enough sensation of pleasure to keep him barely satisfied, Harry frowns and reels back.

"I said don't you fucking move." Harry grits, slapping Louis' already ruddy rump. Fuck—if Louis kept it up with the twerking, Harry'd have to let Louis cuckold Zayn and dick him down, not that he'd be so willingly against it anyway.

Harry reckons Louis tastes so sweet and sounds so heavenly; he could come right here, right now —but he won't, he's been dying to taste bluebell and his dulcet mouth again for ages, he won't ruin that. "You're a fuckin' eyeful baby," Harry says with a smoky throat and pulls back a little, Louis' saccharine hole winks at him, shortening and drawing in on itself to pucker and throb; It was making Harry's mouth water something bad.

Louis whines again to garner some attention to his aching bones and shakes his ass to get another tongueful. Harry just smirks sharply at the huge handful of ass and sticks his tongue out at Louis who was now watching him with hooded eyes. 

"Please." Louis whimpers. Then he twerks his ass again, but Harry shakes his head and keeps that same cocky smile playing on his face. Louis' lips tug downwards, gloss dripping.

"Come here," Harry whispers. Louis turns over like reflex, balancing on his elbows that dig into the mattress and his knees awkwardly knock together to their full maiden schoolgirl potential.

"Ain't I pretty?" Louis giggles lifting a leg to curl his toes out at Harry. The glittering black polish glinting in what it can catch of light in the dim room.

"So damn pretty baby. You're a dime-a-dozen kid." Harry says and smirks with the corner of his mouth, his lips twitch into his cheek and his deep dimple craters ruin his sly smile, Louis thinks he's charming, lovely. He wants to say so but ultimately decides this ain't time for gumdrops and roses.

"Mmmh, kiss me." Louis groans and flicks his tongue out. He watches Harry between a cross-eyed view and licks his lips with his fat tongue.

Harry leans up and tongues him down. They lick each other more than kiss, tongues surely lapping at their teeth and the roofs of their mouths. It sounds so obscene and loud that they have to pull Harry's blanket over their heads and continue to eat each other under the sea of white cloth.

"Mmph!" Louis sighs out blissfully when Harry grabs a handful of his hair and jerks his head back.

"Look at me," Harry warns huskily, his eyes burn something fierce.

"Baby," Louis whines more than moans in his throat.

"Don't you call me baby." Harry rumbles on top of him, rearing Louis' head back just till he cries out. "I ain't your fuckin' baby." He menaces. "You got yourself a man to call your own and I ain't your fuckin' baby no more." Harry lets out a guttural sound when the head of his cock catches on the swell of Louis' little pink hole.

Louis reckons it's a sign o' the times. He arches back until the tip brushes past the opening of his hole and he shudders, Barely recoiling when Harry grabs him by the chin and yanks him towards eye level.

"Tell me what you came here to tell me." Harry watches Louis carefully, predator to prey. Louis' mind was only the sedation of Harry's gorgeous sharp face. He was eyelashes and plump lips; pale skin and sparkly green eyes. Louis had a deep aching between his thighs. "Don't you ignore me." Harry grits out, grabbing his bicep and moving his face to meet and catch Louis' eye-line.

Louis just outstretches his hand and lets his fingers hover over Harry's eyes before chickening out and following the edges of his face instead.

"Don't get mad at me bunny," Louis whispers, his fingers still tracing the silhouette of Harry's face. "It ain't my fault."

Harry shakes his head and tightens his grip on his dainty arm.

"No." He shakes his head again. "No, We're not doing this then." His dick was still hard and stiff on top of Louis' little belly.

Louis pouted and made sure his fat lip wobbled as Harry glares through him.

"No bunny I have to tell you." Louis wails far more ardent. The exasperation of not being able to indulge in Harry's body and the sad feeling of leaving him in a few months eats at his heart, he just can't make up which one makes him ache more. "I have to make you see bunny." He sobs hips canting and swiveling up to get back what they've just lost. "We have gotta have it out. Don't you leave me high and dry!" He sobs brokenly, beautiful and horny.

"Fuck you, Louis." Harry spits rolling off of him to slip out of the covers and jump out of the bed. "I hope you had your fun ruining everything," he continues. "I hope you had a great time fucking everything up." Harry hisses. When he tucks himself back into his jeans and underwear, starts picking up his discarded outfit, Louis decides it's as good time as any.

"I'm leaving." Louis whimpers.

Harry stills with his band tee gripped in between his hand. "Leaving." Louis doesn't know if Harry is affirming or inquiring.

"Yes." Louis treads lightly. "Zayn says he'd like me to go to Provence-" Louis starts but Harry huffs out a dry chuckle and continues the process of dressing himself while holding a steady march towards his bedroom door. "But honey I swear _-I swear_ it'll only be for a few months and-" Harry scoffs and laughs darkly from where he's stopped to listen.

 _"Gee_ and then what?!" Harry barks. His hair is all scrambled on his head and his shirt has got wrinkles for days. "Then you come back to town and I keep up the gigolo act, Right?! That's what you want ain't it?" Harry scowls and paces in front of the phantom of his Louis. 

"W-when you decided to f-fuck anything that walked while we were sweet on each other, you made your bed s-s-so now you fucking lie in it!" Louis screams back. "You didn't seem to have a single problem with the Casanova shit-"

In fast and quick strides Harry is back on him. Hands on his neck and breath on his face.

"You left me!" Harry roars. "You left me for him." Memories flood his mind and he's got his heart made up. "You didn't want me anymore." He hisses. Although he's tried to brush the pain away, his face crumbles and he lets go of his hold on Louis.

"I was tired of second-guessing myself, our relationship, your loyalty— _God_ —our secrecy!" Louis cries out. "You weren't mine to lose." He whispers. It's only then when much more vivid flashbacks come to light in Harry's mind.

_**Before**_

  
  


The first time it happens was during a hockey game where Louis sits and watches Coach Pontiac give Harry hell for messing up all of their plays.

His skin was pale and his lips were red from miles away. Louis just assumed Harry was always cold, he was abnormally pasty.

So anyway, Louis is watching the game. Concentrated on every glide of Harry's blade scratching and tearing ice. When his eyes zoom out of their respectful vision, then like magic—there's a girl. A girl with beautiful ash brown hair, brownie points to her all-natural honey highlights—she's wearing a band tee with a lot of holes—and he gets nostalgic.

He turns back to look at Harry and clears his throat, eyes occasionally straying to the Rob Zombie shirt clinging to her collar bones and shoulder blades like it was thrown on in a sloppy manner that made her look cool anyway.

The heaven-sent is of a pure kind, Upturned slender nose, and dewy colored eyes. Louis wonders what it must've been like to grow up that beautiful; to bleed innocence like that of Disney princess, the kind he longed to bleed.

He doesn't get to wonder long, the buzzer sounds like an alarm and he hears Harry throw his helmet on the rink before he skids to him in a quick motion. "We're leaving." He announces like he's in a rush to meander out of there.

"Okay." Louis agrees, doesn't dare mouth off on the bleachers; Wouldn't dream of it.

Outside, they're waiting in Harry's van; the engine revs like a chain saw.

_**Rurrrgh** _

_**Rurrrgh**_

Then it dies. With a quick slam of his palm against his leather steering wheel, Harry curses, and cusses.

"Who is she?" Louis meekly inquires.

"Don't worry about it," Harry grumbles back, jilting the keys in and out of the lock cylinder. "Fuck!" He roars and tosses the keys onto the dashboard. "Engines dead. I'm calling triple A." Then he pulls out his phone and starts searching the service number frantically. He's probably got a hunch of what's about to go down and was only delaying this inevitable disaster.

Louis swallows the lumps in his throat and looks out onto the street, the ground is icy, ain't no chance in hell he won't slip at least once.

"Who is she?" He repeats much louder.

This time Harry cuts his eyes next to him.

"You ain't hear me or you ain't listen?" He barks, but don't got no bite. "It don't concern you, so don't you piss me off tonight."

Louis grimaces, tears already spewing like a faucet. "Fuck you." He sobs.

He grabs the door handle, but Harry's quicker and locks it from the driver's seat.

"Calm down." He says it to be menacing but no one likes Louis when he's mad.

"Open the door," Louis instructs quietly.

"There's a blizzard tonight sha you'll-"

"Open the fucking door!" Louis screams, red face burning and stomach-churning.

Harry unlocks the door, ready for his temper. Louis steps out of the car and listens to the loud snick on the opposite side.

"Where are you goin’?!" Harry is less than assertive. Fucking alpha macho of the century.

Louis's eyes are red and puffy, his eyes sting but he doesn't turn to look back at Harry once.

"Bluebell-"

"Don't talk to me." Louis sobs. His hands grab the jersey he had stupidly put on to display tonight and tugs it over his head to toss it on the snowbank. _So fucking stupid_ Louis tells himself,— _You're so fucking stupid!_

"Put the _fucking_ jersey back on." Harry barks behind him, rushing to catch up to his strides. Louis sobs harder, he wants to laugh at himself. "I didn't know she was gonna show up in my shirt," Harry says defeatedly, hands coming down like a surrender.

He stops in his tracks and turns around to march back up to Harry's face, and slaps him.

"That's your only excuse?!" Louis cries, whenever his body had trembled it had always looked frail and small. Louis tries his best to stop his face from morphing into a paragon of his sobs. "Why can't you just admit I'm not enough for you?!"

Harry rolls his eyes with an insane amount of irritation and puts his hands up. "I'm not dealing with this right now." He turns back around and Louis can only hear the crunch beneath his feet, wet ground, and slippery slopes.

Well, his lip wobbles and he sobs louder, "You have no right!" Louis screams. "You have no right to walk away from me!" Louis shudders in the cold, his tears are like ice on his face, Harry doesn't care about him and never has, the thought alone is like the kiss of death—Harry never loved him.

Harry stops from a distance and scowls. "I don't need to explain myself to you, Louis! We're not together!" He roars. "—Do you know how embarrassing it is for you to show up to my games?! God and in my jersey no less!? Have yourself some fucking self-awareness because you're not the only person I'm fucking and the whole team knows it!" Harry's rage dictates the strain in his screams and the color of his face.

Oppositely, Louis' face crumbles and he cries into his shoulder blade, gnawing on what he knew was his sick blue skin. He looks up through his clumpy black lashes and turns away from Harry to sob again.

"You drive me home and pick me up from dance—" Louis moans.

"I do that for all my friends." Harry spits ruthlessly.

"But we've never been friends!" Louis cries at a loss.

Harry scoffs, the red of his cheeks blooming like he's just been caught in a dirty lie.

"You never let me talk to people I want to talk to or have friends you don't know-" Louis says but Harry flashes his lucid eyes at Louis and stops the words before they even tumble out of his mouth.

"That's because you're mine!" Harry roars back, finger pads on his chest. At his own revelations, his eyes widen and his pupils shrink. Louis stills and his eyes water like glossy magazines, head-spinning on his shoulders. 

"How can I be yours if you're not mine?..." Louis whimpered, more moan than anything. He was practically begging for Harry to explain the ridiculous circumstances to him.

Anyway, Harry stood there with relentless shame, an embarrassment for sure.

Harry grits his teeth. "I don't—" he swallows. "Are you saying you're not mine?" He feels rage on his fingertips; stronger and hotter than he's ever felt, so close and familiar.

_How can I be yours if you're not mine?_

"I've never been yours!" Louis cries. "You've just made that more than clear." He says and sniffs. He wipes his nose and twiddles his fingers.

_How can I be yours if you're not mine?_

"Just tell me her name." Louis weeps, stepping too close to Harry. "Don't make me beg of you!" He squeals amid broken sobs. "Please." Louis gets on his knees, breaking his own prophecy, he is playing his own dangerous game.

_How can I be yours if you're not mine?_

Harry rubs his face and feels his thighs flex involuntarily, feeling of Louis' dainty fingernails digging into the muscle. Each passing second is only hell, like they tighten and claw harder, probably anticipating an answer they don't truly want.

"Haribo." Louis weeps. Harry looks down and trembles his fingers over Louis sweet cherubic face,

His red cheeks and frosty eyelashes blink up at him, Harry feels great sadness looking into his sweet almond eyes.

"Candy," Harry mumbles, reaching down to run his hands through the soft tufts of silk that is Louis' pinned and styled hair.

"Candy," Louis whispers almost silently, Harry's uneasy with the amount of misery on Louis' once peculiarly and regular jovial face...he looks like a new person. "Her name's Candy?" Louis implores, although not too earnestly. His voice is almost as sad as his beautiful face.

It's all...well, sad.

_And her name is beautiful._

  
  


**_Now_ **

The ordeal is old, but as Louis recites it Harry feels a sense of wickedness.

"Well, what is it then?" Louis mutters while picking at his manicure. "Was I obsessed with you or did I leave you you stranded like you left me?"

Harry pales feet away and tries to find his words. "I-" They're loudly interrupted.

The sound rattles loudly and the doorknob jams up and down like a cartoon animation, something out of a rubber hose film.

"Gain some composure," Harry says steel-like, voice void of emotion and disdainful face imperceptible of happiness. He runs his slender fingers through his dark hair and sighs, picking up Louis's intimates and tossing them on the bed.

Louis grabs them quickly, sliding his legs together, and tugs his glittery dress down, scratching his freckled thighs in a hasty process.

" _Ouchie_ ," Louis mumbles under his breath.

Harry watches Louis stretch his stockings up his legs and notices the nasty bruises on his delicate feet through the sheen cloth, he looks away.

It's only when Louis clears his throat that Harry swings the bedroom door open and stands full-fledged in the arch of the doorway to conceal the sight of a flustered Louis' for as long as he can.

"Go back to bed," Harry says immediately upon laying sights on Matty's swaying; pathetic form.

"You know a fucking hello would suffice." Matty is a stumbling gargoyle with his arms crossed over his tattooed chest.

Louis blushes, he recalls that moody late night and the way he kissed him, pressed up against the wall of that dark hallway and wandering hands just barely keeping him sane enough to remember.

"You're wasted and fucking gone Matty." Harry's brows are pinched. He was taking his anger out on him, the anger that was meant to be directed to himself.

"Fuck you." Matty burps, it's animated. Those cartoon drunks raise their white flags to him. "You know what? I don't need t-this." Matty sways and his eyes very noticeably focus one by one. "I don't need you." Then he points at Harry as if to seal the already frayed deal. "I'm a _God_." He smiles and throws his head back, arms out to his side to slather himself in his vision of righteousness (or a carbon copy of Jesus himself.) "One of a kind b-baby! I don't need anyone!" The alky lets his head flop to the front and hums out a tone of his song.

Matty rocks forward and catches the most minuscule glimpse of Bluebell, his eyes glisten.

"You lot are despicably sinful." Matty purrs. "I mean I guess it doesn't matter anyway since we're all going to hell but Christ." He chuckles but he's always been a sloppy drunk, it comes out all maniacal. He then points at Harry who raises his eyebrows 'Me?' Harry mouths. "Sleeping with your best mates boyfriend? You're a fucking fiend-"

Louis footsies the blanket off of his hidden body and crawls out of bed. "Matty?" He mewls. "Hon, what about me? 'm I going to hell too?" He jokes and tries to make light of a quickly dark situation, Matty was most likely digging himself a dangerously deep grave.

Harry looks between them both and shoulders past Matty. "Meet me in the Milkyway when you're all done here." He mumbles on his way out. "Gonna go have me a smoke."

Matty drops his arms and he smiles lazily. He shakes his head of wild untamed curls and smiles more, It's a big and cheesy grin.

"No, not you Lou, you're gorgeous." Matty tsks and reaches out his hands to run a finger down Louis' torso like a baby wanting to snatch and hold anything in its sights. "Sorry." Matty apologizes half-heartedly and Louis doesn't know what for.

"You're okay 'hon," Louis says softly. He bites his lip and he flutters his doe eyes. "How you' feel-"

"God you're a fucking babe" Matty confesses. His dark gray eyes are hooded and his lips are bee-stung pretty. His breath reeks of booze and so did his clothes but Louis didn't really much care for that anyway so he puts on a big smile.

They stare at each other a while and bask in crickets and silence. it's not long before Louis shuffles his feet and extends his hand up, reaching up to grab Matty's strands of unkempt ringleted dark hair.

"Do you miss me?" Louis asks petulantly. He doesn't meet Matty's line of sight but he knows they're on him.

"I miss you loads gumdrop," Matty whispers, his breath is tangy with whiskey and his fingers are rough on Louis' tummy.

"Gumdrop?" Louis blinks cutely, sad. "No one calls me that anymore..." His soft voice sounds out of sorts. 

"Maybe they should." Matty shrugs, feeling Louis' fingers on the nape of his neck and the curls in patterns and tugs in waves. "Maybe you're a little gumdrop." Matty teases. "My little gumdrop." He chuckles just low and deep. His voice is raw and unabashed. Maybe the glasses of whiskey scorched through his throat and opened his expressions...or maybe he's just being sincere.

"Your gumdrop?" Louis breathes shakily.

"Yeah...little gumdrop," Matty hums. Their eyes droop, balancing between each other's mouths and the others' gazes. "Are you going to let me kiss you?" Matty smiles down at his mouth. Louis watches as Matty tugs his lip between his teeth and continues to flick his eyes between the finger on his belly and the wetness of his mouth.

Louis smiles shyly. "In your dreams," Louis mumbles but there's an undertone of mousy school-girl timidness. _He doesn't do crushes. He doesn't do crushes. He doesn't do crushes. He doesn't do crushes._

Matty gets a hint of nostalgia this time around "You are in my dreams." He utters softly. Then he brushes his finger up Louis' belly and chest until he reaches the thin straps of his dress underneath the large fur coat. Matty looks sad—Sad and drunk and has probably been bendering for days without the acknowledgment of anyone else who cared for him.

 _Well phooey,_ Louis cared.

Matty is barely paying attention to his hand though. Instead, he's trying to focus on Louis' taut physique and the outline of his tiny body.

Matty slides the strap off of Louis' shoulder anyway, he gawks and marvels at the quick reveal of Louis' pretty pink nipples, the nubs are hard and pale, likely cold.

"You cold?" Matty teases with a chuckle.

"Ha. Ha." Louis bites. There's no actual hostility to it though, not as long as he's completely infatuated with the drunk in front of him. "Ain't you just as keen as mustard." Matty scrunches his nose and distractedly reaches under Louis' dress to slide a hand over his freckled stomach. Louis doesn't know the last time he was touched so tenderly and cautious with such a carefully dedicated craft, touched like it was warmth.

Matty trails his fingers over the dips of his hipbones humming and flashing his eyes now and then, watching as Louis gasps softly, well as soft as you can get when you're tipsy at least. Louis' mouth opens like a key to a lock, pink mouth agape.

"You know I don't understand American sayings," Matty says, but it makes no sense to Louis' ringing ears. He was trying so hard not to let his knees collapse at the incoming wobbling. "So are you going to let me kiss you baby or you just playing with me?" Matty slurs very much still rocking on his feet.

"Matty." Louis sighs, trying to unravel his body from the petulant drunk but Matty's not having any of it.

"No, fuck!" Matty exclaims, "In the hallway, you told me it couldn't happen again but I-" Matty burps. "I don't fucking want that. Why does Zee get to have you day after fucking day?!" He booms. "Why does Harry get to kiss you and send you on your merry fucking way, huh?!"

"Honey-" Louis whispers trying to take a hold of Matty's clammy hands again but to no avail, Matty doesn't grab him back.

"No, fuck, don't touch me. You're being mean. This is fucked." Matty groans and runs his hands down his face sighing. "I think we shouldn't be around each other." He murmurs, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

But his words sting. They cut deep like the daggers he's been cloaking. "You don't know what you're saying Matty, you're drunk." Louis hisses tearing his hands away from him. "Don't say things like that-"

"You can't have all three of us! Do you realize just how fucked that is?! Or is that just me? Do you usually have your fucking love trysts at the laughing expense of others?" Matty spits.

Louis' eyes water for the last time that night. "Why are you being so ugly to me?" Louis whimpers, grabbing the straps of his dress and sliding them back over his shoulders. "Why does everyone have it out for me? What have I done that's been so fucking awful?! Why can't I just kiss you without it meaning anything?!-"

"Because that's not how it fucking works!" Matty booms. "You're actions have fucking consequences Louis, fuck!" He stumbles back into the hallway and tries leaving Louis stranded but Louis' had more than enough of the damn distress.

"Talk to me, Matty." Louis sobs.

"Go home, Louis," Matty says in an undertone. "Go back to your enormous house and make sure to lock yourself up in your fucking tower to wait for whichever prince charming decides to sweep you off your fucking feet that week." Louis squeals out a cry and weeps louder.

"Fuck you." Louis wails. "Fuck you," he repeats louder struggling to get Matty to even slightly swerve his line of sights on him instead of the white line he's already begun packing unto the kitchen table.

"Yeah alright." Matty sneers. "Even if you did, you'd probably run off to see who appeases you for the remaining week."

Louis doesn't waste a moment to stride up to the punk to curl his hands around his torso and dig his fluffy head of hair into his ribs. "Please." He bawls. "Please stop. You're my best friend." He blubbers letting it all out unto Matty's alcohol-infused shirt, rubbing his face to rid himself of the wetness of his tears and the snot of his nose.

Matty continues packing and straightening the lines until Louis chokes on a great big sob. "Okay." Matty susurrates.

~

They hug for a while, just rocking back and forth with little to no mirth between them. Unspoken truths wedged somewhere in it all and alcohol having more power over them both.

"I think you should go anyway," Matty says monotonously. "Because if you don't I think we're just gonna end up doing things we'll regret." He explains.

"You don't know how I feel." Louis ignores him. "You don't think about what I feel before saying things," Louis says to say.

"Did you ever stop to think about how _I_ feel?" Matty hisses, clamping his hands around him in a bruising hold.

"No," Louis admits ashamed. "I'm sorry." He whispers, also grabbing at Matty harder.

They were trying hard not to intertwine themselves in the other again. Louis held a great feeling of love and sadness.

"I think you're right." He sighs sadly. "We shouldn't be near each other."

  
~  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave kudos and comments I strive off of them <3


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